


Demon Seed

by SucculentHyena



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alien Flora & Fauna, Aphasia, Body Horror, Bucky Barnes Angst, Bugs & Insects, Compulsion, Embedded Images, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Gore, Graphic Description of Injury, Horror, Hurt, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, Images of insects, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury Recovery, Interviews, M/M, Medical Accuracy, Medical Reports, Medical Trauma, Mystery, Serum Heals Everything, Skin Loss, Temporary Character Death, Worms, happy enough at least, weight loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 92,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22597030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SucculentHyena/pseuds/SucculentHyena
Summary: [Transcript 00:11:48]MS: You were with him the most throughout the course of events, both before and after. Your account could shed light on something we may have missed.JB: What difference will that make?MS: It could make all the difference. Captain Rogers’ case is unprecedented, he’s the most intact victim we’ve ever recovered-JB: [laughing] You call that intact?-Excerpt of Interview with Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes regarding the Incident.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 730
Kudos: 327





	1. Chapter 1

_Species 017  
_ _Official name: Novis coleopt scutulata  
_ _Laymen name: Coin Beetle_

_The coin beetle is closely related to Earth’s Coleoptera order of the Coccinellidae (the ladybug family), and was dubbed the coin beetle after its colouring and rounded shape resembling “pirate treasure”, as the initial discovery team described._

_The beetle is characterized by a hard exoskeleton with gold colouring and complex pattern resembling geometric shapes on the outer shell surface. Body is divided into three regions: Head, Thorax and Abdomen, and lack any form of wings (elytra). They do not have any sting or poison glands and are deemed harmless to human beings. Adults range from 30 to 57 mm._

_The coin beetle has been observed feeding on all forms of vegetation within the Occupied Zone (see List of Vegetation on page 104) without showing preference for any one genus of plant, and has shown a distinct lack of interest in any Earth-native plants or insects. Of note, they appear to form a symbiotic relationship with the beacon sapling (see page 138)._

_We have deemed the coin beetle to pose minimal threat to both the environment and life on Earth, and it is unlikely to spread beyond the Occupied Zone._

-Excerpt from page 76 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

Bucky stood at the observation window looking in at Steve. His eyes were uncomfortably dry and bloodshot- he’d barely slept these past two weeks.

Inside, Steve was lying upright in a medical bed, a sketchbook and crayon in hand as he drew. He wasn’t allowed sharp objects anymore. Even the needle of his IV drip was wrapped in layers of tape and gauze to keep the temptation off the table.

Steve could’ve looked over at the two-way glass and seen Bucky, but he ignored the observation area completely as he stuck to his drawing. He hadn’t looked Bucky in the eye since he fully woke, and refused to communicate with anyone. Except. Well.

_God is dead. Demon seed._

His left arm was bound in a sling. Gauze hid most of his head and face, and Bucky knew the bandages extended under the gown, going down his chest and ending all the way at his thighs. The skin had mostly grown back, but it was still tender, and the doctors wanted to keep him covered for another day.

In the past, Steve’s body had healed all sorts of major wounds, some too horrific to name- but never something so, _precise_ , and extensive. _37% of his skin_ , Jesus. Maybe on its own that would’ve been fine, but there was so much more that had been taken. That had been disfigured. That Steve was fighting to regrow, or reattach.

His liver was fully regrown, and his body was nearly finished with his kidneys. His arm was no longer at risk of falling off, and that was a relief of its own- but other pieces weren’t so lucky. They were checking his left eye socket every day, as well as… other places, for signs of regrowth. And then there was his mouth…

The door opened behind Bucky, but he didn’t turn around.

“Sergeant Barnes, it’s time”

Bucky let out a breath, keeping his eyes locked on Steve’s form. He’d been avoiding this as long as possible- had used every excuse he could, which was often that Steve was too injured to be left alone. The team had covered for him the best they could, but the commission investigating the incident were hellbent on getting his testimony. Natasha warned him that there was talk of using an armed escort. He couldn’t avoid it anymore.

“Sir” she said, urging him to move.

He kept his eyes on Steve like it would somehow make things right, like Steve would magically look up and smile like nothing had happened- then held back a flinch at the thought, reminded that Steve didn’t have teeth to smile with anymore.

“It’s alright, sir. We’ll keep an eye on him” Andy said- one of the orderlies.

Him and Susannah, one of Steve’s nurses, were on duty, with another three caretakers on call if anything happened. All of them were on Stark’s payroll, and they were here exclusively for Steve. Bucky had gotten to know them well enough as professionals after spending every possible waking hour at Steve’s side. He could trust that Andy would keep an active eye on things while he was gone.

It also helped that Sam and Natasha were outside the room, ready to take his place while he was away. He was pretty sure Tony had also patched Jarvis into the camera system. The AI had a direct line to his phone. Bucky would be alerted the _second_ anything happened. He had no reason not to trust the care Steve was in.

With great reluctance, Bucky finally looked away. He followed the examiner out of the observation room and ignored the tugging pain in his chest.

  
(Image of coin beetle, taken by discovery team)


	2. Chapter 2

_Species 014  
_ _Official name: Novis tripneustes spinae  
_ _Laymen name: Urchin_

_The urchin, true to its name, is similarly related to the order of Echinoidea (sea urchin)._

_The urchin is characterized by its blackened globular shape covered in pointed spines, with 4 to 9 tentacles protruding from a pore at its base, where both the mouth and anus are located. They hold the greatest variety of size for any organism within the Occupied Zone, ranging from 2 cm at the smallest to 2 metres at the largest. Urchins larger than 1 metre have been rare._

_They have been observed feeding on all forms of organism without preference, regardless of Seed or Earthly origin, including other urchins. As they are only capable of feeding on organisms smaller and slower than themselves, most do not show interest in humans unless a person were to hold still for an extended period of time._

_The spines contain a potent hallucinogenic and paralytic; however, the organisms require deep-tissue penetration to deliver these substances, of which they have no physical means to exert such forces. Effects can last anywhere from an hour or more, but are not fatal to healthy individuals._

_We have deemed the urchin to pose moderate threat to both the environment and life on Earth due to their venomous and omnivorous nature. Precautionary measures when around urchins is to avoid falling or leaning heavily on them. Avoid stomping or kicking urchins as their spines may penetrate through boot soles and into the foot._

_It is recommended to destroy all groupings of urchins that approach within 6 metres of the Occupied Zone border._

-Excerpt from page 27 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

Interview Subject: James Buchanan Barnes, SGT. [JB]  
Interviewer(s): Leslie Anne Henry [LH]; Michael John Sabos, PhD [MS]

[Begin Transcript 00:00:12]

LH: Thank you for talking with us.

JB: [grunt]

LH: Are you ready to begin?

JB: Just get it over with.

LH: Alright. We’d like to start with Captain Rogers’ first contact, three months ago.

JB: That was a while ago.

LH: Just recount events to the best of your recollection.

[pause]

JB: We were called to babysit the clearcutting.

* * *

_Fourteen weeks ago._

“That’s bullshit”

“Would I lie?”

“Yes”

“Sam, I’m hurt. I’m baring my soul here” Bucky said in mock hurt.

“I dunno, man, it could happen” Clint said beside him, taking Bucky’s side. The two of them sat atop the observation tower, Clint with his bow held in his lap, an arrow nocked loosely on the string, and his legs dangling off the side. Bucky would’ve sat similarly, but one of them had to look at least a little professional, so he sat crouched with his sniper rifle perched on the railing, eyes passively watching for threats.

“You don’t fall off a bike _backwards”_ Sam refuted over comms.

“I mean, you could though” Clint argued back.

“The momentum of the bike means you _keep moving forwards_ when you fall. There ain’t no backward _anything”_

“There is if you’re driving towards an explosion. The shock waves knock you back; it’s worse than driving into a brick wall” Bucky said. That had been a momentously shitty mission- his handler had left him to suffer from the wounds in agony for days as punishment for his failure, sitting in the dark and-

He stopped his thoughts there. He didn’t need to go digging further. It was enough to argue with Sam that _yes_ , you could fall off a moving bike backwards.

There was silence on the channel as Sam percolated that, and Bucky grinned.

“I can confirm this, it ain’t pretty” Steve added over the channel.

“Thank you” Bucky said, grinning wider, but then realized what Steve had said. “Wait, when did _you_ drive towards an explosion?”

“Don’t worry about it”

“Steve”

“It’s not relevant right now”

“Like hell-”

“We’re on duty, we can talk about this later” Steve cut him off quickly.

“This is a babysitting gig and you know it” Bucky groused, shifting his grip.

“Yeah, are we even really needed for this?” Clint asked.

“They need someone to watch their back” Steve answered. Bucky could see him a hundred feet off, walking along the perimeter with his shield on his back.

“They have half the county’s military here for that” Bucky commented, eyeing the soldiers that outnumbered the workers two-to-one. The sound of chainsaws and machinery filled the air, with the steady crack and thump of felled trees in-between. If Bucky strained, he’d catch the odd gunshot as someone took out an alien that got too close.

Bucky had caught sight of a few through his scope, but the brief moment it took to get a better look left enough time for the infantry on the ground to take care of them before he could. He understood they were supposed to be dangerous, but they fascinated him nonetheless.

These weren’t just aliens, these were alien _bugs_ and _plants_. Unintelligent and invasive, hailing from a meteor that crashed somewhere deeper in the forest. So far they didn’t pose much more threat than any other semi-dangerous creature already on earth, and most were slow or uninterested- but nobody wanted to take any chances, especially when they weren’t sure what else lay deeper in the woods.

In an effort to keep the area contained, a strip of forest was being clear-cut in a huge circle around the crash.

Though his brief glimpse of a black beetle the size of a St. Bernard had made this mission not a _complete_ waste, he had to agree with Clint. The military had this covered, and the Avengers weren’t bringing anything of value with their presence.

“It doesn’t hurt to have extra help” Steve said, but it sounded weak to Bucky’s ears. Steve didn’t want to be here as much as any of them, but he couldn’t _say_ that- not within earshot of the people they were here to protect. Bucky cursed that he’d been on-call for this.

“I think they’ve got it covered. I’m surprised they’re not shootin’ the trees” Sam said dryly. Bucky chuffed at that comment- the guys on the ground were admittedly trigger-happy.

“ _Sam”_ Steve admonished.

“Oh, so _I_ get told off but not Tweedle Dee and Dum up there?”

“We’re his favourites” Clint said smugly.

“ _I’m_ his favourite,” Bucky said while he scrutinized a bush through his scope, “you’re just close enough for me to rub off on”

“I bet Cap’d like you rub off on him” Clint said smartly as Bucky fired a shot, taking out what looked like a red ball with six spindly legs.

“ _Clint”_ Steve admonished more sternly.

“Guys, stop giving lip over the comms, Steve can’t sass us back in front of all the lumberjacks” Bucky said, pulling back from his sights.

“I think they prefer forestry technicians” Sam mused.

“No, that’s the guys marking the trees, you need a degree for that. I think the guys cuttin’ are just loggers” Clint said.

“Guys, can we at least _look_ like we’re taking this seriously? I can see you swinging your legs from here, Clint” Steve chided.

“Don’t lie; you wish you were sitting up here instead”

“I wish a lot of things Clint- _fuck”_ Steve cursed suddenly.

Bucky stiffened. “Steve?”

“You okay?” Sam asked at the same time.

“I stepped on a, stepped, _sh_ _iii_ _i,_ I-” Steve’s voice wavered, and Bucky saw him fall over.

In an instant Bucky was vaulting over the rail, landing in a crouch and shooting off in a run.

“Cap’s down” Clint called, all the levity gone from his voice.

There was a gathering crowd, but Bucky pushed through them easily, falling to his knees next to Steve’s prone form. Steve was on his back, eyes blinking in confusion at the sky. A cursory glance didn’t show any injuries. Bucky took Steve’s head in his hands.

“Steve, can you tell me what’s wrong?” he asked, ignoring Clint’s voice as he called in for medical.

“Ther fin?” he slurred, eyes listing in his sockets.

“Aw shit, on his foot” one of the soldiers said, and Bucky looked down to see what looked like large bur poking from the sole of his boot.

“I thought we got all the urchins”

“Don’t fucking look at me, that was Renald’s job”

“It’s everyone’s job!”

Bucky ignored the chatter and cursed, recalling from the data packet that these things were venomous- more so the smaller ones. First thing to do was pull it out.

One of the loggers must’ve remembered the same thing, because she reached down with a gloved hand and _yanked_ , then tossed it back into the forest like it was a live grenade. Bucky gave her a quick nod of thanks as he gripped Steve, pulling him into a fireman’s carry. There was a wheeze of protest, but the paralyzed idiot was in no condition to complain.

He hauled Steve to the medical team, meeting them halfway as he explained the situation, laying Steve down on the stretcher.

As he followed them to the tent, he found himself much less endeared to the wildlife.

* * *

[Transcipt 00:8:35]

JB: He was fine after fifteen minutes, the serum burned through the venom fast enough.

LH: And there were no other lasting effects? What about the injury to his foot?

JB: The hole took twenty to clear away.

MS: Is that a normal rate?

JB: Yeah. It was no worse than a nail in the foot for him. Less than that.

MS: There were no behavioural changes after?

JB: … He started watching where he stepped.

  
(Sample of work by S. G. Rogers)


	3. Chapter 3

_Species 023  
_ _Official name: Novis flos falsum  
_ _Laymen name: Black Lilac_

_The black lilac, despite its name, is not in fact a plant, but more closely related to the Earth’s Actiniaria order of the Anthozoa (the sea anemone), and is a type of invertebrate. It is the most common form of fauna found inside the Occupied Zone._

_The black lilac_ _is_ _characterized by_ _a single polyp protruding from the_ _anchored base_ _, extending to a_ _stem_ _of 20 to 45 cm in height, and_ _end_ _ing_ _in a single large panicle consisting of multiple growths._ _These growths_ _resemble lilac_ _petals_ _with black colouring_ _, but are in fact filtration membranes._

 _It was discovered that the lilac is responsible for the_ _hazardous condition_ _of the air, though contrary to initial speculation, it does not release any form of toxins. Samples of air composition and closed studies of individual organisms have found that the lilac_ _converts elements in the air, altering the composition of the Occupied Zone’s atmosphere to below_ _5_ _% oxygen, creating a serious asphyxiation hazard in the environment._ _It it suspected this output is a result of the lilac’s feeding process, though the source of food is yet to be determined-_ _theories_ _include_ _pulling_ _nutrients from_ _airborne_ _microbes._

_We have deemed the black lilac to pose moderate threat to both the environment and life on Earth through alteration of the atmosphere, however, only where the organism sprout in numbers larger than 10,000. It is recommended that any lilac growing within 15 metres of the Occupied Zone border be destroyed to discourage spreading._

-Excerpt from page 63 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

[Transcript 00:10:08]

[paper shuffling]

LH: We’re told you and Captain Rogers live together, correct?

JB: Yes.

LH: And you were both at home when the call went out on the day of the incident?

[pause]

LH: I’m sorry, we need verbal responses for the recording.

JB: Yes, we were both at home when the call came in.

LH: Okay, and can you detail everything Captain Rogers did before the call came?

JB: Why?

LH: Pardon?

JB: Why do you need to know that?

MS: We’re trying to figure out exactly what happened, and what might have caused Captain Rogers to end up in his… condition.

JB: You have everyone else’s statements, they saw the same things I did. You even have the goddamn medical reports, you probably know more about what happened than I do.

MS: You were with him the most throughout the course of events, both before and after. Your account could shed light on something we may have missed.

JB: What difference will that make?

MS: It could make all the difference. Captain Rogers’ case is unprecedented, he’s the most intact victim we’ve ever recovered-

JB: [laughing] You call that intact?

MS: Yes, more than any of the other victims. His skeletal system was practically untouch-

[slamming noise]

JB: Don’t. I don’t want to hear this shit. Keep that talk between you and the other vultures. I’m not helping you make Steve a science experiment. [ _transcript note: all references to “Steve” refer to Steven Grant Rogers, CPT_ ]

MS: We’ve respected your wishes not to perform any physical tests-

JB: HIS wishes. Steve never wanted to be an experiment before; he sure as fuck wouldn’t want to be one now. If this is just your way of getting around that, we can end this interview right now.

LH: Sergeant Barnes, we’re not just here for scientific curiosity. Captain Rogers is the only known survivor of this kind of attack, we’re trying to figure out what might have led to his survival. This could help others in future instances.

[pause]

JB: [sigh]

LH: Start from the beginning. To the best of your knowledge, please tell us how his day started, and go on from there.

JB: There’s not much to tell. We were sleeping when the call came, geared up, left for the mission.

MS: Can you expand on that at all?

[pause]

JB: No.

* * *

_Two weeks ago._

“ _Bucky_ ” Steve breathed, arms gripping the headboard loosely, his head turned into the pillow. The sun reflecting in his hair created a corona effect, and he looked beautiful as Bucky lazily sucked him off.

It was a Saturday morning, and they had nothing planned for the day. Bucky had woken slowly to find Steve sleepily watching him, thoughtlessly carding his fingers through Bucky’s hair. They’d made out sweetly, until Bucky had felt Steve’s morning wood and decided sex was how he wanted to start the day.

From the bedside table came a shrill alarm, and both their heads shot up at the noise. Steve scrabbled to grab his phone, blearily reading the notification and cursing.

“Do we have to?” Bucky whined. They were in the middle of some _excellent_ morning sex, and they weren’t even on call.

But Steve was already pulling away. “Emergency assemble, the whole team's needed” he said, entering the bathroom and starting the shower. Bucky blew a frustrated breath, getting out of bed too. He grabbed his own phone and read through the alert, frowning when he saw where they were being called.

He followed after Steve, entering the shower just as Steve was getting out, switching places and opting for a quick rinse.

“It’s seriously that bad?”

“It’s big enough that Clint and Tony can’t handle it on their own. They’ve got Sam and Nat in on it too” Steve called from their room.

Bucky grumbled. They were too goddamn short-staffed lately.

He toweled off hurriedly and joined Steve, both of them pulling on their gear with practiced haste. Bucky grabbed three power-bars on their way out, shoving two in Steve’s pockets so the punk wouldn’t go to battle hungry. Steve shot him a quick smile as they went down to the garage.

They shot out onto the street, driving side-by-side on their bikes.

“What are the odds these fucks die before we even get there?” Bucky mused into their helmet comms.

“I’d say pretty high” Steve answered offhandedly as he took a turn.

Bucky sent a little prayer for it. Sooner this was over, the sooner they could enjoy their day off.

Fucking Hydra ruining their morning.

* * *

[Transcript 00:12:03]

LH: So you got to the tower, then what?

JB: We got on a quinjet and headed for the park. [ _transcript note: “park” in reference to Harriman State Park_ ]

LH: Who else was on the quinjet with you and Captain Rogers?

JB: Tony, Natasha-

LH: Full names for the record, please.

JB: Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov, Sam Wilson, and Clint Barton.

LH: Nobody else?

JB: Did you even read everyone else’s reports? They must’ve given you this information already.

LH: I’m asking for the record.

JB: … No, there was nobody else on the quinjet.

LH: Thank you. And what happened on the ride to Harriman Park?

JB: We went over the mission specs. Steve made a plan. Then we waited around until arrival.

MS: Can you expand on that?

JB: No.

* * *

_Two weeks ago._

“What’s the situation?” Steve asked.

“A platoon of Hydra soldiers broke through the barriers around the Occupied Zone, carrying heavy weapons and what looks like a collection of large containment units. Best as I can tell, they’re planning to capture some of the wildlife” Maria said over their comms, already on scene.

Clint scoffed from the pilot chair, “You mean they haven’t already been eaten?”

“The day’s only started” Natasha said wryly in the copilot seat.

“I can’t see why they’d want any of these freaky things” Sam said, looking over the most recent reports of the creatures.

“Same reason they want anything. Probably experiment, put some laser and gun mounts on ‘em. Shit like that” Bucky said gruffly, checking over his weapon.

“Whatever they want them for, we can’t let them leave with any” Hill said.

“Agreed” Tony said, reading the information on his glasses. “I feel like I'm looking at the lovechild of a nightmare and a phobia”

“We’ve got the military working on containment down here, they blew out four guard outposts on their way in and it attracted attention from the bigger bugs. We don’t have enough spare people to actually go in while we keep this breach contained, so we need you to make sure they don’t actually _take_ anything. If you can destroy all their containers, the rest should take care of itself”

“We’ll handle it” Steve affirmed, looking through the files alongside Sam.

Bucky frowned, spying some of the images in the files they were looking at. Something that looked like a melted pig sat closest to him, and he lips curdled.

They hadn’t had to actually go _inside_ the Occupied Zone before- the last they’d seen of the place had been from the clearcutting months back. After that he’d dropped it from his mind, uninterested after the urchin incident with Steve. Watching him gibber and wheeze through his fifteen minutes of paralysis had been enough to put him off the novelty of these aliens.

The government had the military keeping tabs on its borders and the UN had a team of researchers looking into it. From what he knew, the bugs were keeping to themselves for the most part, and that was fine enough by him.

Of course some Hydra sect had to get their hands on it.

“What’s the plan, then? We’re just trashing their stuff and leaving?” Sam asked.

Steve didn’t answer for a moment, scrutinizing something in his report, then putting it down. “Essentially. You and Tony keep to the air and act as lookouts, we’ll need a heads up if something big’s coming our way. Distract the soldiers if you can, but I want your eyes peeled for anything.

“Clint, you stay with the quinjet, we might need a quick escape if this Slasher comes” he said, tapping the report he’d been reading. Bucky didn’t need to look at it, Slasher had been the biggest buzz to come out of the Occupied Zone after the first exploration team went in. The Big Bad Wolf of the place.

“Bucky, Nat and I will go on the ground. Bucky and I will work as distractions and hit their smaller containers. Natasha, you lay explosives on everything else. Once you’re done, we retreat to the jet and let it blow”

Bucky nodded. Nobody had any complaints about the plan. Sam and Tony seemed relieved they wouldn’t need to be on the ground with all the creepy-crawlies- and thank fuck none of these things could fly.

“I don’t need to remind you all to be careful out there” Steve added, picking up the report he’d been reading on Slasher. Bucky had seen enough photos of the thing sensationalized in the news- he didn’t need to be told twice to keep away from it.

* * *

[Transcript 00:19:54]

LH: So you arrived at the breach site and went in from there?

JB: No, the army had that handled. We flew directly into the zone where the Hydra troop was located.

LH: And then you engaged them?

JB: Yes.

MS: And where was Captain Rogers during this?

JB: He was by my side. We got off the quinjet together, stayed close while we fought to draw their fire at us. Natasha laid the charges as planned.

MS: Was there anything different that Captain Rogers did during this fight? Anything he wouldn’t normally do?

JB: He had to fight around the tank and mask, but we all had to. Except Tony, his suit filtered the air for him.

MS: Was Captain Rogers injured at all prior to the incident?

JB: No, none of Hydra’s soldiers got a shot off him.

LH: So to your knowledge, nothing was out of the ordinary prior to the attack?

JB: That’s right.

[paper shuffling]

LH: We’re going to move on to the attack itself. I know this is hard for you, but we need you to be as detailed as possible for this part.

JB: Fine.

LH: To the best of your knowledge, please describe how the attack started.

  
(Sample of work by S. G. Rogers)


	4. Chapter 4

_The Occupied Zone consists of an approximately 50,000 km² circular area inside Harriman State Park, the border of which can be identified by a 15 metre wide area cleared of plant-life around the perimeter._

_At the epicenter of the Occupied Zone lies the Seed (see The Seed on page 8) and the highest population density of the Occupied Zone’s alien flora and fauna. The population becomes less dense closer to the border of the zone, and the alien biome has stopped spreading so excessively since the initial crash of the Seed._

_Study of the Occupied Zone has found it to be a self-sustaining biome consisting of no more than 276 catalogued species of distinct organisms. Thorough sampling of multiple sources within the zone have found no signs of alien microbes, bacteria, or otherwise alien microscopic organisms. All alien life appears to be of macro proportions, and it has been deemed safe to enter the Occupied Zone without full-body coverage._

_The atmosphere within the Occupied Zone is highly hazardous due to a <5% oxygen saturation in the air. Oxygen levels are tolerable within the first 200 metres (+/- 50 metres based on weather conditions) of the zone before O2 tanks are required for further exploration._

-Excerpt from page 2 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

[Transcript 00:22:02]

JB: We were in the middle of a firefight, everything going exactly as planned. Steve and I drew their fire, Natasha had snuck around and placed the charges. Sam and Tony shot from the sky, they took out the bigger bugs that got close. Clint even had the quinjet firing at a few of the crawlers. Then one of the soldiers got a lucky hit.

* * *

Bucky was firing from behind a container while Steve covered them with his shield. They moved along, smashing the smaller cages and taking out Hydra soldiers as they came.

He was covering Steve, who was crumpling another cage with his shield, when his oxygen tank took a hit.

There was the sharp sound of the impact, quickly followed by the violent hiss of compressed air being released. The force and surprise of it made Bucky stagger, and he cursed as he quickly tossed the canister away- he was lucky the thing hadn’t exploded. He yanked the mask off, it was only a distraction now.

He quickly tapped against Steve’s shoulder while he fired one-handed over the chest-high container, getting his attention. Steve saw his lack of mask and cursed.

“Bucky’s air is gone, we’re falling back to the jet. Clint, pull up as close as you can” he heard Steve say over the comm as he blinked black spots from his vision.

He could hold his breath for eleven minutes, four with heavy action, two with major injuries- so why was he getting lightheaded so fast? His firing arm was feeling heavy, and some of his shots started to go wide as he sagged against the container for support.

He distantly felt a pressure on his bicep, and a moment later something pressed against his face. The black spots in his vision started to clear, and he blinked up to Steve’s worried face looking down at him. When had he sat down?

Steve asked him something and he nodded instinctively, unsure what had been said. Then the next thing he knew, he was being hauled to his feet and pulled along beside Steve, who was supporting most of his weight.

The world swam slowly around him as his ears rang, and suddenly things went dark. He blinked and his eyes adjusted- they were in the quinjet? Something was being pushed against his face, and he tried to swat it away, only for the pressure to increase.

“-an you hear me?” Sam was asking him.

Bucky nodded, looking around. He was lying on the bench in the jet, an oxygen mask over his face that Sam was forcefully holding to keep Bucky from knocking it away. Bucky groaned, squeezing his eyes shut against the ache in his head.

“Wha’ happened?” he asked blearily, trying to sit up, only for Sam to push him back down.

“Take it easy man, you just had some bad hypoxia. Just keep breathing, it’ll pass”

“Steve?” he asked. He’d just been with him, where had he gone?

“He’s on his way with Natasha, Tony’s got ‘em covered. We’ll be out of here as soon as they’re back” Sam assured, but it wasn’t enough. Bucky needed to be _out there_ , he needed to watch Steve’s back because the idiot was likely to do something stupid without him.

Already his head was clearing, the blur in his vision and the ringing in his ears gone. He pushed Sam away and pulled the mask off his face. “I need to get out there. Clint, take us back down!” he called to the cockpit.

“Already on it, they’ve set the charges and they’re coming in hot” Clint answered.

“Sit your ass back down, I don’t need the shit Steve’s gonna give me for letting you pass out on the floor” Sam griped, following behind Bucky in an attempt to stop him. Bucky ignored him, grabbing his gun on the way to the doors. If Steve was on his way back, the least he could do was cover his retreat.

Clint made quick work of bringing them down. There was a small shudder as the aircraft landed, then the doors were hissing open. As soon as Bucky had visuals, he was firing, taking out Hydra soldiers. He could see Steve and Natasha approaching as Tony laid suppressing fire.

Steve had his shield up to cover himself and Natasha. They moved side-by-side, ducking behind containers as Natasha fired over Steve’s shoulder.

“ _Shit_ ” Sam said suddenly, eyes going wide.

“I’m working on it!” Clint yelled, and Bucky was unpleasantly realizing he didn’t have his comm in anymore.

“What’s happening?” he asked tersely as he took out another shooter. He couldn’t help but notice the Hydra goons were thinning out rather fast, a lot of them making their own retreat as they yelled indistinctly in the fray.

But Sam needn’t answer, because Bucky saw what had gotten everyone so panicked.

A cropping of trees shuddered and fell at the edge of the clearing as something huge broke from the treeline, the force of it causing the dead husks of wood to snap at their base.

His breath caught at the sight of it- a huge driving force that tore up the earth underneath it as it plowed towards the commotion. It was the worst thing in this god-forsaken place to encounter.

Slasher.

The insect-horror skittered on its many legs at a speed unexpected for its size, moving with the drive of a locomotive, dead-set on the mass of containers.

Where Steve and Natasha were still in the middle off.

* * *

[Transcript 00:32:30]

MS: Please be as detailed as you can.

JB: It… It went right for him. There were so many other people in that clearing for it to get, Steve wasn’t even that close, but it went right past the others like they weren’t there. Everyone was shooting at it, everyone was running away. Tony hit it with his strongest blasts; nothing left a mark.

It shoved passed everything, didn’t bother going around containers; it shoved through one of those metal containers- shipping container- like it was a cardboard box. It was set on Steve. He and Natasha were running, then they split. Steve threw his shield to call its attention. He’s faster, I, I think he wanted it to chase him. So Natasha could get away.

MS: You’re absolutely certain it was set on Captain Rogers, specifically?

JB: I saw it run over Hydra soldiers, it crushed them. Didn’t stop for them. Sure as fuck stopped for Steve.

MS: And how did it get him?

JB: It caught up to him. You probably know how fast he can run; it must’ve had him beat by a mile. It caught up to him and just… covered him.

MS: Covered him?

JB: It’s mouth- it- its head went up, then came down on top of him. Like- fuck, I dunno, like when you put a cup over a spider. And he was gone.

MS: Can you expand on that?

JB: What the fuck else do you want me to say? It fucking ate him and left. He was gone.

[snapping noise]

[pause]

JB: Sorry.

LH: It’s alright, it’s just a table. [pause] I think we should take a break.

JB: Yeah.

[Transcript paused at 00:36:14]

* * *

> From: mharrison@hrt.gov  
> To: jbbarnes@avengers.org  
> Subject: Request for Study
> 
> Hello Sergeant Barnes,
> 
> I am contacting you on behalf of the Harriman Research Team. We have been studying all aspects of the Occupied Zone, and we have an interest in further studying the effects of Slasher’s feeding.
> 
> As you hold power of attorney over Captain Rogers, we are requesting permission to perform the following studies:
> 
>   * Blood sample studies over an extended period
>   * Respiratory analysis
>   * Periodic scans of the fibrous structures within Captain Rogers for signs of growth or change, as well as periodic biopsies of these growths
>   * Neurological exams of cognitive behaviour to observe the effects of these growths on his mental faculties
> 

> 
> The data gained from these studies could help us discern the purpose behind Slasher’s behaviour and to better understand the adverse post-feeding effects on humans. In addition, we may find a way to reverse these effects on the victims of these attacks.
> 
> We may find a solution to Captain Rogers’ condition.
> 
> We look forward to your reply,
> 
> Dr. Mark Harrison, PhD, Physical and Developmental Biology  
> Harriman Research Team  
> mharrison@hrt.gov  
> 315-555-4018 ext. 515

…

> From: jbbarnes@avengers.org  
> To: mharrison@hrt.gov  
> Subject: RE: Request for Study
> 
> Dr. Harrison,
> 
> I am denying your request. He is not an experiment.
> 
> James Barnes

  
(Sample of work by S. G. Rogers)


	5. Chapter 5

_Species 001  
_ _Official name: Novis caedes  
_ _Laymen name: Slasher_

_Slasher is the only one of its kind in the Occupied Zone. It can be identified by its elongated cylindrical body spanning 100 metres long with over 80 segmented sections of thickened shell. The shell has a mottled grey-green patterning similar to lichen._

_No up-close study has been possible. The organism most closely resembles that of Earth’s millipede, with an estimated 15 legs per body Segment (diplosomite). The Head is the largest segment, measuring approximately 4 metres tall and containing a number of eyes (ocelli) and the Mouth section (maxilla)._

_Based on distant observations, the Mouth section consists of a network of pincers and bladed appendages (both smooth and serrated) of varying size used to pick apart its food precisely. These appendages are also used in the complex behaviour of “sculpting” the organism takes part in (see The Collection on page 95)._

_Slasher has been categorized as exclusively carnivorous, and has shown a strong preference for any Earth-native organism that enters the Occupied Zone. It has shown no interest in wandering beyond the inner radius of the Occupied Zone, with the exception of its trips to the Collection._

_We have deemed Slasher to pose maximum threat to both the environment and life on Earth._

_Attempts to destroy Slasher have included using targeted gunfire, high-grade explosives, and ingested poisons. All attempts have been unsuccessful. It is strongly recommended that a method be found to destroy this organism._

-Excerpt from page 12 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

[Transcript resume at 00:36:21]

LH: Are you ready to begin?

JB: Yes.

LH: We’re going to move on to after Captain Rogers was attacked. You were there when he was placed in the Collection, correct?

JB: I was in a recording room at one of the outposts, outside the Collection.

MS: You were in Observation Deck 2 of Station 67. I don’t know if you recall, but I was on-duty that day in the room.

JB: [grunt]

LH: Can you describe what you observed on the live-feed at the time?

JB: Why the fuck do you need me to say this? You have the recording; you’ve seen that shit. Half the goddamn world’s seen that shit.

LH: We want to know if you may have observed something we missed. Something odd about Captain Rogers’ behaviour during the incident-

JB: His SKIN was- that, fuck- that wasn’t even the worst thing that happened. How else was he going to fucking act?

LH: I understand this is difficult for you, but we need to be thorough in our investigation.

[pause]

LH: Sergeant Barnes?

JB: … God damn you. Fine.

* * *

_The phenomena Slasher takes part in that we call ‘sculpting’, lends to a case for the capacity of creativity within this being. It is a behaviour more complex than what we’d see in non-intelligent creatures, especially shown by the fact that every sculpture Slasher creates is different in their own right. If this were an instinctive behaviour, then surely there would be more congruence between its works?_

_Each piece is distinctly unique, requiring deep creativity to produce such diverse work without any repetition. Compare figures A and B below:_

_[Image A description: The remains of a deer carcass, most of the skin and flesh missing. The spine standing straight up like a pole, the four leg bones used as support like a quadropod. The skull rests atop this structured, the lower jaw removed and split in two, inserted into bored holes below the antlers as if a second set of antlers. The ribs removed and inserted along the spine like spikes, curves facing downward._

_Image B description: The remains of an owl. The skull is cut into eight perfect segments similar to orange slices, opened in a circle. The remaining bones sliced lengthwise and arranged in a circular array around the skull. The legs remain intact, each foot grasping the other like clasped hands, placed in the centre of the skull. The feathers are tied in a daisy-chain and woven between the bones in a swirled pattern]_

_Notice the difference in each piece and how Slasher has meticulously placed everything in a specific formation (See Appendix C for more examples of Slasher’s pieces). In order to achieve such diversity, thought must be placed into design. An effort was made to think through these works._

_Not only is mental effort used, but a great deal of physical effort is required for such precise work, to seemingly no useful purpose. What else would these sculptures be used for other than expression?_

_Each sculpture is made from the uneaten remains of Slasher’s meals, the bones picked clean of any flesh, save for ligaments, which Slasher uses as twine to hold its sculpture together. Such delicate work of separating the fine material from the body requires a great deal of focus, which is beyond wasteful for a creature whose behaviour would be purely for survival._

_These pieces may not even be works of art. Perhaps they are attempts at communication. Slasher leaves all its sculptures in a location we call the Collection, located directly on the border of the Occupied Zone. Why would it leaves these works where we can so easily see them? Is it trying to tell us something?_

-Excerpt from page 6 of _Slasher: A Case for Sentience_ , Study by Dr. Mike Sabos

* * *

_Two weeks ago._

Mike was scrutinizing the newest closeups of Slasher’s sculptures while he idly kept an eye on the Collection’s camera feed.

He was comparing two raccoon corpses, each completely different from the other. Why had Slasher left the skin intact on one but not the other? Why had the hands been taken apart on one and sewn together on the other? The one had its intestines wrapped around it like a shawl, the other had its lungs cut and pulled open like flowers blooming from the skull’s eye sockets.

There seemed no rhyme or reason to the pieces, but Mike thought something had to be there. Dr. Ismari thought it might be a mating display, like how some male birds made intricate nests with any shiny or coloured material they could find to attract females

The problem was that Slasher was the only one of its kind, and there was no way to tell if this was a courtship behaviour without an opposite sex to observe. Mike didn’t think there _was_ a second sex; none of the other species in the zone had shown more than one sex characteristic, and appeared to be exclusively hermaphroditic- some even reproducing asexually.

He’d bet anything Slasher was the exact same, and a courtship ritual didn’t make sense for a hermaphroditic nor asexual species- there was no dimorphism to instigate the behaviour.

Maybe- _maybe_ , it was a territorial display, but if that were the case, wouldn’t the sculptures be spread around the area? A single collection wouldn’t discourage rivals if they didn’t _see_ it.

He was trying to discern the details of a blurrier closeup of the raccoon’s skull- he’d need the drone tech to get another shot on the next outing- when his pager went off.

He glanced down and grinned, then quickly hid it. Fransisco had warned him that nobody liked seeing his excitement for a new sculpture- said it put people off. Especially when it was going to be a human.

Whenever Slasher got a person, a page went out to warn the personnel of Station 67. They had a special unit on call just for these situations. The tech would already be prepping the drone.

Mike wished they’d leave the works alone for just a little while so he could get better images of it, because _god_ , the sculptures Slasher made with humans were something else. Slasher’s most complex work was done with people, the fine detail- and _etchings!_ \- in the bone unseen in any other organism it fed on. He was lucky he was getting to see it live, usually he had to settle for the recordings.

He kept those opinion to himself, however. He had enough tact to know the others would be even more put-off by it.

It wasn’t like he _wanted_ people to die, but once Slasher got them they were nothing more than cadavers, and the potential for study was outstanding. He was petitioning for a form of consent to be implemented for all personnel, hoping that maybe _some_ of them would sign off to allow their corpse to be studied- you know, if Slasher happened to get them.

But that was for another time. There were developments happening right now that needed his attention.

He put the raccoon images down and brought up all the camera feeds, ready to zoom and focus on Slasher when it arrived and started sculpting.

It was quiet, but he could hear the sound of the recovery team prepping in the back. It was a waiting game for how long Slasher would take to arrive with the remains, but it didn’t usually take long. What was odd, however, was the sound of an approaching aircraft. He spied it touching down just outside the base from his window. Odd, they didn’t usually get visitors here- too close to the collection for anyone’s comfort.

A minute later the door to the observation deck was kicked in.

* * *

Bucky shoved past all the personnel and kicked in the door to the monitor room or whatever they called it. He needed to _see_.

There was a man already seated at the desk, startled by the intrusion. Bucky crowded in on him. “Has it come yet?” he asked coldly, scanning the screens for signs of the monster.

“The- uh, sorry, what?”

“The bug, has it come yet?” he asked again, but he already determined it hadn’t.

“Oh, uh, n-no, it hasn’t gotten here yet” he answered haltingly. Bucky grunted, and he kept his eyes glued to the monitors.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’re allowed to be here…” he started, then trailed off. Bucky didn’t give a flying fuck, they’d have to drag him out by force if they wanted him gone.

Sam and Natasha followed in, coming to stop on either side of him. Natasha had just as cold a look to her, and Sam had an impassive mask hastily stapled to his face. They had to see, just like him.

They had to know.

“Tony and Clint are talking with the recovery team- they’re gonna make sure we get his body- we get him back” Sam said quietly as the three of them stood vigil.

“Um, I really don’t think-” the tech tried again.

“Man, look at our uniforms. You think we’re messing around?” Sam snapped.

The tech swallowed audibly and went silent, turning stiffly back to the monitors.

The atmosphere was cold and tense as they waited. Bucky had seen pictures of what this thing did- what it was going to do with whatever was left of Steve. The repulsive knowledge had left Bucky numb, and he watched the feeds with a horrified calm.

Time stretched, the only sound their breathing and the creak of the tech’s chair when he shifted. They were left standing like that- on a knife’s edge of tension- for a full seven minutes, until the creature finally made an appearance.

It scuttled out from the dead trees, it’s body moving at a sedate pace- like some horrific subway car on legs. It wove through it’s leftovers in the clearing, leaving its other work untouched as it searched for an empty space to mutilate Steve’s body.

The tech followed its progress, switching camera feeds to keep a close eye on it. They watched it almost meander, until it finally picked a spot near the edge of the border, a stone’s throw from the lively forest outside the Occupied Zone.

“I’ve never seen it come so close to the edge…” he heard the tech murmur as he zoomed it. The details weren’t especially clear, but maybe that was for the best.

The creature gently brushed a spot clear with its many pointed-appendages, pushing away stray leaves and twigs without disturbing the grass, and then Bucky watched in rapt dread as it leaned low. The edges of it’s domed shell touched down on the earth with the lightest touch, and then just as lightly it lifted.

Bucky heard Sam gasp harshly, and the utter lack of reaction from Natasha spoke volumes. Bucky could only feel numb.

Where there had been an empty expanse of grass was now a dark red mass, the details indistinct but clearly human. The tech mumbled something about bones, but Bucky paid him no mind.

Then the creature… it started to turn away. It left Steve’s half-eaten corpse on the ground, brutalized but intact, and thank christ, thank christ he didn’t have to see Steve bent and twisted-

Bucky’s thoughts stopped.

“ _Oh god_ ” Sam said brokenly, suddenly leaning onto Bucky for support.

Steve’s arm-

His arm-

“Ho-ly _shit_ , he’s still alive” the tech said in wonder, but to Bucky he sounded a thousand miles away.

Steve’s arm _moved_.

* * *

[Transcript 00:48:28]

LH: Please describe the retrieval of Captain Rogers.

JB: After the- after we saw he was alive, we waited until it was out of sight to go get him.

LH: When you say ‘it’, your refer to the creature known as ‘Slasher’, correct?

JB: Yes.

LH: Continue.

JB: We went out there to get him, and- [pause] You’ve seen the medical reports, I’m not going over this again. Everything the reports say are how we found him. [ _transcript note: see Exhibit 4 for full medical report of Steven Grant Rogers, CPT_ ]

MS: Can you tell us anything about the position he was in? Bodily?

JB: On his back, arm out a little, legs together.

MS: And did you see anything around him?

JB: Like what?

MS: Like these? [paper shuffling]

JB: Beetles? [ _transcript note: Barnes was presented with images of coin beetles. See Exhibit 13_ ]

MS: Were there any around Captain Rogers that you saw?

[pause]

MS: Sir?

JB: Give me a minute.

[extended pause, transcript resumes at 00:55:18]

JB: I don’t know. I don’t know… Is this important?

[paper shuffling]

[pause]

JB: Christ. [ _transcript note: Barnes was presented with samples of Captain Rogers’ drawings done post incident,_ _along with enhanced image of coin beetle shell-patterning_ _. See Exhibit_ _s 14 and 15_ ]

* * *

_Two weeks ago._

“ _You don’t have one of those, do you?”_

Bucky stood outside the surgery unit, right behind the restricted doors. He would’ve followed the trauma team into surgery if one of the doctors hadn’t bluntly told him that his presence might kill Steve. Something about not being sterile- he hadn’t fully processed it.

And even then, it had taken both Sam and Tony (in his suit) to hold him back. He’d been glued to Steve’s side the whole way here, gripping his hand and telling him that everything would be okay as Clint sped the quinjet to the nearest trauma centre, a pair of paramedics from the outpost riding along with them as they did their best to triage.

“ _You don’t have one of those, do you?”_

Steve had stared back at him with one terrified eye, opened wide without an eyelid to cover it anymore. His face had been gruesome to look at, not an inch of skin left, and Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about the offhanded comment he’d made all those decades ago, when Schmidt has pulled his face off in that factory.

“ _You don’t have one of those, do you?”_

It kept echoing in his mind. That stupid, _stupid_ comment he’d said on the tail end of weeks of torture and experiments about that macabre visage.

“ _You don’t have one of those, do you?”_

Well now Steve did- but it was so much worse than Schmidt’s. His face wasn’t a hardened outer skin- it was dark and glistening with his exposed flesh that moved as the muscles pulled and shifted. His eyelids were _gone_. You could tell his teeth were missing because there were no lips or gums to hide the fact of it. The hollow where his nose used to be oozed a pinkish discharge with every gasping breath Steve made.

But the biggest difference of all- the pure, abject terror in his mutilated expression. His bloodshot eye moved in its socket desperately, searching for an answer. His pupil was drawn in a tight pinprick of fear and pain.

And the _sound_. It shredded Bucky’s heart, every wheeze of breath that pulled a sawing squelch from Steve’s throat. Every attempt at words garbled and so goddamn _wet_ sounding- the pained braying he managed when he tried to grasp Bucky with his left arm only to find it missing, ending in a stump. The fucking thing had taken his _arm_. Bucky was pulled back, back to when he’d woken with his own arm missing, but this was worse, this was so much worse.

“ _You don’t have one of those, do you?”_

As grisly as it was, Bucky kept his gaze on Steve’s face, kept his litany of reassurances, because he couldn’t look down, down to his naked body, to his skinless chest and stomach, where he’d been opened and had his _guts pulled out_.

Bucky heard one of the paramedics say they couldn’t put the intestines back in because they were _wrapped too tightly around his leg_ , and Bucky wanted to vomit, wanted to grab Steve and run away with him, like that would leave all the horror behind them.

Instead he’d stuck by his side, gripped his one hand as gently as he could while speaking even gentler words- like he used to do when Stevie was sick, when he was half-delirious with fever and gasping every breath.

“ _You don’t have one of those, do you?”_

That had been an hour ago, and he’d been standing there ever since, staring in through the small windows of the doors for any sign of activity. Sam was sitting in one of the waitroom chairs, keeping him company. The rest of the team were dealing with the fallout.

There was a flurry of fires to put out with Steve down, the most imperative being the press. Apparently the footage of Steve had been leaked barely ten minutes after it happened, and Tony was spearheading the efforts to put a lid on that particular grease fire. Bucky didn’t care right now, didn’t care about anything outside of that surgery room that was deeper in the building than he was allowed.

He saw one of the surgeons that had been taking care of Steve come rushing to the door, and he stood more stiffly. The woman looked panicked and pale, and she was making haste to get out. She shoved the doors open and kept going, but Bucky grabbed her arm and stopped her.

“What’s happening? Is he okay?” he asked.

The surgeon was breathing hard, and sweat beaded along her brow. She looked like she was going to be sick. “His _arm_ \- it. God, I couldn’t- I’m sorry, I couldn’t” she blabbered and tried to pull away.

“Is he dead?” he asked, gripping her arm more tightly.

“No, he’s, they’re debriding-”

He let her go, and she moved away, fleeing the surgery unit. He recognized he wouldn’t be getting anything more from her.

Steve was still alive, and that was all he needed right now. He resumed his steady watch.

* * *

> Patient Name: Steven Grant Rogers  
> Patient ID: 420003819  
> Sex: M  
> Age: XX
> 
> Lead Trauma Surgeon: Dr. Fareeha Mowad
> 
> Trauma Summary
> 
> Patient was presented to the trauma unit with following major traumas identified:
> 
>   * Amputation of left arm above the elbow
>   * Avulsion of skin in entirety of front facing surface of neck, chest, and abdomen
>   * Avulsion of skin in entirety of the head region; removal of ears, eyelids, cheeks, and lips included
>   * Avulsion (partial) of front facing surface of thighs
>   * Large and small intestines located externally; wrapped around right leg, ends still connected internally
>   * Multiple holes found in skull; appear similar to drilled burr holes, approximately 2mm in diameter
>   * Open wound on abdomen; flaying of skin, subcutaneous tissue, and muscle of stomach
>   * Removal of all soft-tissue within the maxillofacial region; removal of teeth, gums, and tongue
>   * Removal of external genitals
>   * Removal of left eye
> 

> 
> During surgery, the following additional traumas were identified:
> 
>   * Gallbladder, liver, pancreas, spleen, and stomach, misaligned and rotated with minor lacerations on the exterior surfaces of organs
>   * Approximately 25% of liver removed
>   * Esophagus detached from stomach and sewn shut with unknown material
>   * Stomach sewn shut with unknown material
>   * Kidneys and bladder removed, along with connecting ureter and urethra
> 

> 
> Additional note:
> 
>   * Left arm was found intact within abdominal cavity. Arm was connected to patient’s renal arteries, appeared healthy
>   * Second set of lungs discovered behind primary set, sewn to primary set with unknown material; discoloured and malformed, appeared functional
>   * No signs of hemorrhaging- no major bleeding wounds. All blood vessels appeared sealed and cauterized
>   * Blood pressure and heart rate elevated, symptoms of shock evident. Patient was conscious and attempted to move, anesthetics ineffective (maximum safe dosage administered) and patient had to be restrained until fainting mid-surgery
> 

> 
> Surgery Summary
> 
> Muscle tissue debrided with saline and covered where skin was missing. Internal organs rotated and aligned to correct positioning. Unknown material removed from esophagus and stomach, esophagus reattached to stomach with surgical stitching.
> 
> Intestines unwrapped from leg and debrided with saline, placed back in abdomen (intestines placed atop amputated left arm, distension will be evident until arm is removed from cavity). Closed abdominal wound with temporary measures. Left arm stump debrided and covered.
> 
> Broad-spectrum antibiotics administered. Anesthetics administered (ineffective).
> 
> Patient was given IV drip including iron for suspected anemia, blood transfusion deemed unnecessary.
> 
> Patient stabilized and transferred to neurosurgeon for head trauma.
> 
> Surgeon’s Note:
> 
> Recommend CT scan for head injury, full body scan and x-ray for missed traumas. Patient will require dialysis.
> 
> Left arm appears intact and healthy- likely can be removed from internal cavity and reattached when patient is more stable.

  
(Sample of work by S. G. Rogers)


	6. Chapter 6

_The alien material first assumed to be space debris has now been deemed a biological cell, termed the Seed. Theories to its purpose are that it is part of an alien species terraforming method, or that it is simply a self-enclosed biome that has crashed into Earth._

_The flora and fauna of the Occupied Zone can be traced back to the Seed as their origins, having spread out from the crash site’s epicenter._

_Images taken with drones have shown the Seed to be approximately 50 metres long and 20 metres diameter, with a surface that appears to be a similar colour and texture as tree bark. No further data has been collected due to the hazards of the organism existing around the Seed. An opening on the east-facing surface can be seen, however, no internal images have been acquired._

_Of note, Slasher (see Slasher on page 12) appears to use the Seed as a home nest, and frequently visits the site between its feedings, entering and exiting from the single opening. Unmanned drones have proven equally unsuccessful in getting close, as any technology within 10 metres of the cell become inert._

-Excerpt from page 8 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

[Transcript 01:02:12]

LH: We’d like to move on to his behaviour post-surgery.

JB: Which one?

LH: Pardon?

JB: Which surgery? There were six.

[paper shuffling]

LH: … The fourth surgery. Captain Rogers was not recorded to be conscious until that point, unless you noticed otherwise?

JB: No. We brought in our own medical staff, they know how to keep him under.

LH: Then please start from when he first became lucid. We have it noted you were there when he woke.

JB: I don’t think lucid would be the right way to describe him.

LH: How would describe him, then?

* * *

_One week ago._

Bucky sat by Steve’s bed. There was a pressure behind his eyes from the constant vigil, though it left them no less sharp. He’d been watching Steve nonstop since he’d been allowed by his side, and it was becoming straining- but Bucky had been trained to wait sniper-still for days under far worse conditions, and this was easily the most driven he’d been to spot movement from his target.

Dr. Cho had said they’d wake him today, and had reduced his sedatives accordingly. They wanted to get an early idea of his mental faculties, and then they’d put him back under. It was the closest he’d let them to testing his mind outside of scans.

Four surgeries, all nail-biting and stressing. The first was the emergency triage to set all his inside right and cover his skin. The second had been a few hours after the first- once the neurosurgeon had found no issue in his brain and deemed Steve stabilized- they’d gone back in to insert the necessary tubes and smaller fixes they’d avoided in his earlier delicate condition.

The third had been three days later. It was an exploratory surgery to assess not just Steve’s progresses, but to take stock of the left arm inside his gut, and collect samples of the growth behind his lungs and in the arm. Bucky had been adamant, however, that no samples were to be taken from his brain, no matter how extensive the spider-webbing looked. He just couldn’t agree to it.

The knowledge something was growing inside Steve- inside his _brain_ \- was like a punch to the gut on top of everything else.

The tests came back inconclusive. It was alien and unknown.

The fourth surgery had been for his arm, but they started some of the skin-grafting while they were at it. They removed his arm from his gut and reattached it to the stump, while also grafting small portions of skin in hopes of encouraging his serum to pick up the pace were it had lagged.

Another three days had passed after that with Steve under heavy sedation, and the arm had taken to the reattachment well. The veins had all connected, and there were signs of early bone fusion. Dr. Cho was guessing he was healing from the inside out, however, so his arm and skin would take longer.

His liver had taken a day to grow back fully, and the minor cuts on his organs had all healed over. His stomach and esophagus had fused back together, and they had a feeding tube in him now- though they couldn’t pump the calories fast enough.

Recent scans also showed two small lumps that Cho strongly suspected were new kidneys, nearly one week after Steve lost them. She called it miraculous. She said his recovery was phenomenal.

She never stayed in the same room as him for more than twenty minutes.

Not everything was going well, though. His eye and- _christ_ , his genitals- weren’t showing signs of growth whatsoever, and his mouth was getting worse. The remaining flesh was actually _shriveling_. A nurse had to wet what was left every hour because his spit glands were gone. His nose was showing signs of new skin, but it was still a crater in his face, and every breath he took made a wet sawing noise.

Through all of that, Bucky had been there, stalwart and stubborn. They couldn’t kick him out, and they couldn’t separate him for anything but surgery. He wore the aprons and the lead vests and the gloves and the masks and fucking anything else they said he needed to, anything to stay with Steve. Nobody could get him to leave, and Sam had been the first to cave, bringing Bucky food rather than see him starve.

Hydra had made him endure worse, had starved and beaten him and expected him to complete the mission- and he had. He would again, would do it a thousand times for Steve- but it was nice not to have to starve. The team would rotate out to sit with Steve and him, and it made the waiting a little less unbearable. But only a little.

Right now it was only him. The others still had duties, and with Steve down, smaller groups were using the opportunity to cause trouble. Thankfully nothing major, but enough to keep the others busy. Nothing short of world-ending would pull Bucky away though.

There was a rasping noise like tearing paper, and Bucky honed in on Steve, leaning forward and taking his hand gently.

“Stevie?” he whispered, throat dry.

Steve’s eye fluttered open and shifted in unfocused movements, the eyelid still only half-grown. The rest of his face was wrapped in gauze, his mouth wired shut to better keep his facial muscles still while the skin grew over top of them- and to take the strain off the tendons in his jaw that were holding on by a thread.

“Hey pal, hey, it’s alright. You’re okay, you’re in the hospital” Bucky said gently. He hit the call button with his other hand.

Steve made another rasping noise that turned into a quiet whine, and Bucky hushed him, running his thumb over Steve’s knuckles. He felt tears prickle his eye when Steve’s hand tightened in his.

It didn’t take long for the doctors to arrive, all of them keyed up for their only patient.

“Hello Steve” Dr. Cho greeted. “You’ve been in an accident, and we have you heavily sedated. Try to keep as still as you can, and don’t try to speak, you have severe damage to your jaw. We’re going to check your cognitive responses and then put you back under” she informed. Steve made a groaning noise, and Bucky wasn’t sure how much of that he’d caught.

She indicated for Bucky to pull his hand away, and he did so reluctantly. Steve whimpered, and Bucky made quiet assurances under his breath, pulling his chair closer to the bed.

Dr. Cho placed a capped marker in Steve’s hand, and she smiled when he grasped it. His hand wavered, but he held on to it.

“I’m going to name things in the room, and I’d like you to point at them with the marker. Let’s start with the ceiling”

Steve slowly lifted the marker and studied it like it was entrancing.

“Steve, can you point to the ceiling?” Dr. Cho repeated with a little more emphasis.

Steve turned his head and blinked at her, then pointed the marker upwards.

“Can you point to the door?”

Steve’s eye looked around, meandering and pausing on some of the equipment, and she had to repeat the question twice more before he aimed the marker at the door.

“Something green”

That one took longer, and Bucky felt a vice tighten in his throat each time the doctor had to repeat herself, but Steve eventually settled on the green light of he heart rate monitor.

“Can you point to yourself?”

Steve paused, and his eye fell to the marker again. He slowly turned his hand, inspecting the instrument like he’d forgotten he was holding it.

“Steve, can you point to yourself?” she said again, a little slower.

Steve blinked as if the question caught him off-guard, then slowly turned the marker towards himself.

“And can you point to James Barnes?” she said, and Steve naturally aimed the marker at him- no pause or hesitance this time. Bucky smiled, meeting Steve’s eye with what he hoped was a reassuring look. There was a small flutter in his chest; Steve knew him, and he knew him easily. That hadn’t been something lost.

Then the doctor held up a clipboard in front of him with the image of a cartoon house and flower, a thick black line separating the two pictures.

“Now I’d like you to try some image exercises. Can you point to the house?”

Steve’s hand wavered, and he blinked as if in deep concentration, but after another moment he tapped the marker on the image of the house. He didn't even need the question repeated.

Dr. Cho said a quick “Very good” before switching to another set of images. They did that five more times, each time Steve identified the correct object, albeit with a notable pause while he thought. Twice more he lost focus to stare at the marker he was holding.

“Very good, Steve, you did excellent. That’s all for today, we’ll leave you to rest now” Dr. Cho said as she pulled the clipboard away.

Steve grunted wetly, and with slow concentration he popped the cap off the marker with his thumb, then struggled to shift his hold, using the surface of the bed as a counter-force for his efforts. Once he had the marker gripped properly, he clumsily mimed writing.

Dr. Cho’s brow furrowed, but she replaced the images with a blank sheet. “I don’t want you to exert yourself too much, so only two questions. You’ll get more answers when you’re better healed” she said, then held up the clipboard from him to write.

Steve grunted again, and he brought the marker to the blank page. His movements were slow, and his writing was shaky and blocked like a child’s, but bit by bit he got the letters out. _G-O-_ _O_ _-I-S_ he started, and Bucky leaned in to read the forming phrase. The more letters Steve wrote though, the more confused Bucky got, until Steve finished and dropped the marker onto his sheets. His hand flopped down beside it, exhausted from the effort.

Bucky tried to make sense of it, but Steve hadn’t written anything that could be taken as a question. It didn’t even read as words until he realized what he’d thought were O’s were actually D’s.

_GOD IS DEAD DEMON SEED_

After the word ‘seed’ was a messy scribble of lines. He tried to discern if it was a letter as well, but if it was, it wasn’t one he could see.

With obvious effort, Steve lifted his hand, and he harshly poked the word ‘demon’ with his finger, as if to emphasize.

Dr. Cho hid her confusion well, and she gave Steve a placating “Alright” as she pulled the board away. Steve’s eye drooped, and he stopped focusing on the board like it wasn’t even there. His hand twitched weakly, and Bucky clasped it in his without hesitance.

“I think that’s enough for now” Dr. Cho said, and turned Steve’s line up. Bucky kept his gaze on Steve, watching as he fell off back into unconsciousness. The room was filled with the sound of the machines for what felt like an eternity as they waited to make sure Steve was out.

“That was a very promising” Dr. Cho commented, collecting the marker and clipboard. “He was reasonably attentive and alert for having just woken. He recognized instructions and could identify objects and people when asked, and I’m surprised he wrote fully formed words, even if the content didn’t make sense to us. Some confusion isn’t unexpected for his current condition. We can test memory and higher functions when he’s more recovered, but these preliminaries are very good” she said confidently.

He hummed, running his thumb over Steve’s knuckles. “Any idea how much longer you’ll keep him under?”

“It’s hard to say, we need to ensure his body can handle itself without going into shock. I’d like at least another sixty-percent skin growth- with his face completely sealed over of course- and his arm to start fusing properly. We’re keeping an eye on his organ growth, and the longer we can keep him under while that occurs the better. Overall though, his skin is the main factor right now”

Bucky nodded. She’d said earlier his body was focusing on the kidneys, but it was working on a little of everything else at the same time, just not as well. One project at a time, apparently.

“Thanks doc” Bucky said, his voice like gravel. He kept his gaze fixed on Steve, settling in for the wait.

* * *

[Transcript 01:17:23]

MS: Did Captain Rogers have any nihilistic views previously? Issues with religion?

JB: No. He’s Catholic, but it’s never been… he’s not devout. He wouldn’t have a crisis of faith.

MS: And prior to the incident, he never questioned?

JB: During the war, there was- [pause]. No, he never had any big issue with it.

MS: So the phrase ‘God is dead’ has never been anything he would have thought beforehand?

JB: No.

MS: And ‘Demon seed’, that isn’t a reference to anything you recognize?

JB: No. I thought he was too out of it to be making sense when he wrote it.

LH: Tell us about the next time Captain Rogers was conscious, our documents say that was after the sixth and final surgery.

JB: Yeah, they kept him under through the fifth. His, his skin hadn’t grown enough.

LH: Yes, growth had reached eighty-percent and Dr. Cho deemed it more beneficial to have him conscious at that time.

JB: Yeah, they couldn’t feed him through the tubes fast enough. He heals better when he eats.

LH: How would you describe his behaviour during his second waking?

JB: He was different.

LH: Different how?

* * *

_Patient was presented with all soft-tissue missing internally and externally from the mouth, including cheeks, lips, mucous membranes, gums, periodontium, tongue, hard and soft palate, submandibular and sublingual salivary glands, and 40% of the mylohyoid muscle. Additionally, all teeth and tooth nerve supplies were missing up until the superior dental plexus._

_Patient’s jaw underwent maxillomandibular fixation to prevent movement and encourage healing. Oral cavity is to be debrided hourly to maintain moisture. Signs of necrosis evident in remaining tissue, patient is to be monitored for changes. No further steps will be taken._

_Signs of healing not expected until patient’s system has completed regrowth in more vital areas; continual monitoring of progress is underway._

…

_Update: Work with grafting has successfully regrown cheek and lip area, oral cavity is no longer exposed externally. Debriding is to be reduced to every four hours. Jaw will remain wired shut until signs of growth are seen._

Excerpt of Oral Surgeon’s Report for patient S. G. Rogers

  
(First instance of S. G. Rogers writing "God is dead. Demon seed")  
(First attempt of S. G. Rogers at drawing pattern [bottom right])


	7. Chapter 7

_Species 062  
_ _Official name: Novis speculo zoysia  
_ _Laymen name: Grass_

_Colloquially termed grass, this plant is near identical to Earth’s Zoysia genus of creeping grass in structure, with an exception of completely lacking chlorophyll. Instead, this plant is made up entirely of transparent cellulose._

_Individuals grow no larger than 6 cm tall, and large collections of this plant cover a vast portion of the ground, just as grass would. The plant does not appear to need sunlight, and can be seen growing in shaded areas under other plants._

_The lack of colouration and mild reflective quality causes the plant to reflect the colours of anything nearby, creating a rainbow effect on the ground with the vast variety of coloured plants found in the Occupied Zone._

_Rather than use photosynthesis, these plants draw nutrients exclusively from the soil. The inefficient nutrients collected from this feeding method means their lifespan consists of a single day, wherein they produce a small packet of offshoots as they die. The new offshoots separate and fully grow in twelve hours, and survive another twelve until death, starting the cycle over. This extremely short life cycle allows the plant to spread at an increased rate as the creeping grass collective spread by millimetres per day._

-Excerpt from page 110 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

_Five days ago._

Bucky sat by Steve’s bed, exactly like he had the past week and a half. The only exceptions were when they carted him off for surgery. The ensuite bathroom and Sam’s delivered meals meant that he never stepped foot outside the room.

He wasn’t alone this time, though. The doctors wanted to wake Steve again, and they didn’t have the patience to wait outside this time. The scans had shown the growths had spread drastically, invading his frontal lobe now, where Dr. Cho said his higher functions were, and they were antsy to check on him. His skin had grown back enough that his movement wouldn’t be complete agony- not with the right amount of painkillers- and they intended to keep him awake longer.

The nutrient paste they were pumping into his stomach wasn’t enough, and in addition to this check, the plan was also for Steve to eat more- though how the fuck they thought he could eat more when his mouth was wired shut and his _tongue was gone_ was beyond Bucky. He very much needed it though, because the word _gaunt_ was starting apply to his friend.

Bucky hogged the prime real-estate of Steve’s right side, where his intact arm could be held, leaving the three doctors to crowd at his left. One of them could’ve stood by Bucky, but he wasn’t oblivious- his past four showers consisted of a wipe-down with the wet towelettes Natasha had handed to him. He was no bouquet of roses. The nurse could at least stand at a distance until needed.

The sedatives had been turned down a while ago, and they were all on alert for the first signs of his waking. Bucky had been keyed up for it for Steve’s entire stay at the hospital, and his muscles strummed with the mix of hope and anxiety he’d been perpetually feeling since seeing Steve’s arm move in that macabre graveyard.

There was a subtle groan- the first sign of his waking. It took another twenty minutes of waiting as Steve woke in false starts, nodding off again in seconds, until his eye finally stayed opened. He shifted weakly, not enough to pull his hand out of Bucky’s grip.

“Hey Stevie” he said, trying to smile. He gave Steve’s hand a squeeze.

“Hello Steve” Dr. Cho greeted. “You’ve been in an accident, and we have you heavily sedated. Try to stay still, and don’t try to speak, you have severe damage to your jaw” she said, repeating the information from last time. Steve made no indication he heard, and he continued to shift, opening and closing his hand. He was quieter than last time, and Bucky only caught a faint clicking noise in the back of Steve’s throat.

“James” Dr. Cho said, indicating for him to let go so she could hand Steve the marker again. He did so reluctantly.

Dr. Cho held out the marker, and Steve’s hand went straight for it, gripping it as tightly as he could as his arm fell back to the bed.

“I’m going to name things in the room, and I’d like you to try to point at them with the marker. Do you understand?”

Steve made a whining noise, and his hand trembled as he tried to work at the cap off the marker. His eye was laser focused on it, and his breathing hitched every time his thumb slid off the plastic unsuccessfully. Bucky frowned, this was different from before.

“Can you point towards the ceiling?” she asked, but Steve kept struggling with the marker.

“Steve, can you point the marker upward?” she asked again, frowning now too. The two other doctors started scribbling in their notes.

Steve kept worrying at the marker one-handed, no indication he’d heard. After several more failed attempts to get his attention, Dr. Cho pulled out her clipboard and held it close to Steve’s right. On it was the cartoon images of a rabbit and a car, separated by a line.

“There are two images on this board. Can you point to the image that’s a car?” she asked.

Steve’s whines became even more desperate, and his hand shook as he struggled. Bucky’s brow furrowed, and he reached over and covered Steve’s hand with his, then gently uncapped the top.

“James” Dr. Cho chided, but she didn’t continue as Steve hastily lifted the marker to the board. There was a weighted moment to see where he’d point- or what he’d write, more likely- and Bucky felt a swoop in his gut as Steve touched the marker’s tip on the rabbit’s ear. Then he started dragging it in a line.

So he was trying to write. Was he in pain? The doctors said the meds wouldn’t let him feel anything more than an ache.

“Steve, I need you to complete these tests first so we can check your cognitive functions. You can write after, okay?” Dr. Cho tried to bargain, but it was to no avail. Steve kept scribbling at the paper, drawing over the images with jagged, intersecting lines. His arm was still too weak however, and often it fell back to the bed, only for him to shakily lift it again.

He kept fumbling with his hand, his whines turning into frustrated grunts that were echoed by a wet gurgle on the inhale. His legs shifted in his frustration, but he was too weak to do much else. He could barely keep his head up.

“You’re still coming out of sedation, your coordination will be a little off for a while yet” one of the other doctors supplemented. Still, Steve didn’t seem to hear, and he kept slashing at the paper. His movements were worse than the first time he woke.

And he’d avoided looking Bucky in the eyes this entire time.

Bucky leaned in and covered Steve’s hand with his again, stopping his desperate movements.

“Give it a minute, okay pal? We’ll get-”

Bucky pulled his hand away like it had been burned as Steve screamed.

* * *

[Transcript 1:25:26]

MS: Was he in pain?

JB: We thought that at first, but no. They had him on enough meds, he shouldn’t have been able to feel anything. And we asked him to point to the pain, but he just kept trying to draw.

MS: You say draw, he wasn’t trying to write something?

JB: I thought at the time, but… You’ve seen him since. All he does is draw those shapes. Or he writes… you know.

MS: ‘God is dead. Demon seed’

JB: Yeah.

LH: What happened after that?

JB: We kept trying to calm him down, get him to do the tests, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t calm down. He started drawing on the bed sheets. We just gave him paper after a while, he got less panicky after. He was still twitchy because his hand wasn’t drawing like he wanted it to, but that was the meds. We lowered the dose and he calmed real fast once he could draw right.

MS: And he only drew these patterns? [ _transcript note: Dr. Sabos points to images of Captain Rogers’ collected drawings. See Exhibit 14_ ]

JB: Yeah. Or, he’d write ‘God is dead’ or ‘Demon seed’ anytime we tried to get him to talk. He’d underline the words like we were supposed to understand it.

MS: And there were no other attempts at communication from him?

JB: I mean, he’d get antsy if you took too long to get him a new paper, and, he uh, panicked when the marker ran out. I gave him a pen, and then when that ran out… You read the, the incident report, I’m sure.

LH: We have it in our records, yes. And to confirm, the incident was not normal behaviour for Captain Rogers?

JB: Oh no, he loves drawing with his own blood. Paints the walls at home with it. We keep getting flies for some reason.

LH: Please refrain from sarcasm, Sergeant, it doesn’t translate well on the transcript.

JB: … No, that wasn’t normal for him.

LH: Aside from his lack of communication and compulsive drawing, is there any other behaviour that’s not normal for him? Is he aware of his surroundings and his bodily needs?

JB: No, he eats- drinks the liquids we give him, he stops when he’s full. We leave him extra, he takes it when he feels hungry again.

There’s not much other needs he has to take care of right now, he’s on, uh, catheters. He doesn’t, doesn’t pull anything out, doesn’t stop the nurses when they change bandages, or the doctors when they check on him. As long as nobody tries to take his drawing stuff, he’s… I dunno, he’s fine. Calm.

LH: And his awareness?

JB: I don’t know how, aware he is. Of everything around him. He doesn’t follow directions when the doctors give it, they gotta move him themselves. He doesn’t pay attention to anyone talking to him. Doesn’t even look away from the paper. All he does is draw. Or write, if we bother him enough.

MS: What does bothering entail?

JB: Just, asking questions. You gotta be a little loud, maybe poke him. Say his name a few times. It takes him a minute to stop drawing, then he’ll write an answer, but it’s always the same thing.

MS: ‘God is dea’-

JB: Yeah, yeah.

LH: Since his waking, there have been no other changes in behaviour?

JB: No. He just sits there and draws.

MS: Any changes in his drawings?

JB: You see what I do. It's all the same pattern.

MS: But it’s a little different each time.

JB: So he’s drawing snowflakes. How am I supposed to know what’s different?

MS: Right.

[pause]

LH: Sergeant Barnes, is there anything else you can tell us? Anything that’s not in any of the reports, or that your colleagues wouldn’t know of?

JB: I don’t…

[pause]

JB: He doesn’t… make eye contact, anymore. He did when he woke, the first time, and then he stopped.

[pause]

LH: That’s all the questions I have. Dr. Sabos?

MS: I have no further questions either. But, uh, if you do notice anything different, please, get in touch.

JB: Are we done?

LH: Yes, thank you for your time-

JB: [grunt, sound of chair scraping]

[Transcript end 1:42:18]

* * *

_It is my assessment that Captain Rogers does not pose a risk to himself or those around him, and that he be released from heavy monitoring._

_After reviewing the incident where Captain Rogers harmed himself, I have found that this was done out of compulsion when not given a creative outlet. This can be seen in how he used his own blood to draw shapes on the wall- the same shapes he had been drawing prior to the incident in marker or pen, and then afterwards in crayon._

_From reviewing the incident report, his self-harming behaviour began when his pen was rendered useless after he’d expended the ink supply. When presented without a means to draw, he resorted to any material he could find, which in the sterile environment was unfortunately his own blood._

_He immediately ceased the harmful behaviour when given an implement to draw with, and has shown no signs of continuing._

_It is my opinion that as long as Captain Rogers is provided the tools and materials to continue his creative outlet, he will not attempt to harm himself or others. It is also my recommendation that he be allowed a wider range artistic tool. A diversity in media may encourage more diverse expressions._

Excerpt of Psychologist’s Assessment for patient S. G. Rogers

  
(Sample of work by S. G. Rogers)


	8. Chapter 8

_The flora of the Occupied Zone is extensive and invasive, and has completely supplanted all Earth-native plant life within the centre. The remains of dead trees cannot be seen under the myriad of plants that have grown over top of them, using the original woody biomass as a source of nutrients in addition to a base structure from which to grow._

_The diversity of this plant life is small, with only 142 distinct species noted (However, there is debate of whether certain plants are distinct or simply different as a result of environmental factors- more study is required)._

_A notable characteristic of the Occupied Zone’s plant life is the lack of sexual reproduction. All plants appear to reproduce asexually (with the exception of the Beacon Saplings, see page 138), using either vegetative propagation or fragmentation. Of note, both these methods greatly reduce the ability of the vegetation to spread over large distances, and have allowed the plant life to remain contained within the Occupied Zone (See page 22 for threat due to Cherry-Picker habits)_

-Excerpt from page 102 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

_Two weeks later._

Bucky dropped his duffle bag on the floor, blowing out a breath as he surveyed the empty room. It was exactly how he remembered it- plain and generic. It was furnished with simple furniture and decorated sparsely, neither he nor Steve putting any effort to customize the space.

This was their personal floor in the tower, used maybe a dozen times when they’d been too tired to go home after a mission, and Bucky wasn’t about to start making it homelier now. The pictures he’d brought to comfort Steve would suffice.

He didn’t want it to feel like his stay would be permanent, even though he was going to be here for the foreseeable future- now that Steve was in the tower.

They’d cleared Steve to be moved, and Tony had him set up on the medical floor, all their private physicians taking care of him. It was secure and out of the eye of the public- something that had been a growing problem at the hospital.

The police had to be called in to disperse the crowd at St. Hayes, their presence so large it was blocking access for other incoming emergencies. Tony had resorted to bringing in his private security to watch the halls as people kept trying to see Captain America. The others pitched in when they could, and more than once had Clint or Natasha caught someone trying to slip by security.

The press had been an even worse nightmare, journalists biting at the bits for more information after the video leak of the incident. Tony had his people working on removing the video from any official platforms, but the internet was vast and anyone could look up the ten minute clip of Steve’s gruesome ordeal.

Their PR team had released a generic statement saying Steve was alive, but it wasn’t enough to sate the public’s curiosity, and the media was starving for the smallest scraps of news. One reporter had even managed to get outside Steve’s door before Natasha had his arm twisted into his back. It had been a whole scene, the journalist screaming assault in the otherwise quiet of the ICU.

Suffice to say the hospital staff had been relieved when they left.

Bucky had been at Steve’s side the whole way, and then stayed for another four days in the tower’s medical floor. Today was the first time he’d left for more than an hour, confident enough in Steve’s health to leave him with their medical team… under Natasha’s supervision. She promised to keep an eye on things, and it was enough to finally ease the worst of his worries.

Sam had driven him up to his and Steve’s loft to grab some of their things- mostly clothes, but Bucky had grabbed a few pictures and half-done sketches too. Those he took for Steve, for when he eventually came to join him on their floor- but that was still a while off.

While packing, he’d paused to stare at a framed picture of them laughing, Steve holding him in a loose headlock. It was a candid shot stealthily taken by Natasha as they’d played Mario Kart for the first time. Bucky had won that round, and Steve had rewarded him with a knuckle sandwich.

He’d been looking at a lot of pictures as he collected them, but this one weakened his legs and forced him to the floor. It was too much, and he sat there bawling in silence. Sam had sat next to him with a soft hand at his back, not saying a word, even when Bucky’s grip cracked the glass.

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but eventually the tears stopped, even if the feelings didn’t. Sam had helped him up after another minute, and together they’d finished packing.

When they’d gotten back to the tower, Bucky had stopped Sam in the elevator as it opened to his and Steve’s floor.

“Thanks, Sam. I’ve got it from here” he said, shouldering one of the bags.

Sam had given him a questioning look, sadness in his eyes. “You sure man? I don’t mind- actually, I really think I should come in with you”

Bucky had looked Sam in the eye. “I’d like to be alone” he said tonelessly, and that had been that.

Now Bucky sat down heavily on the mattress, running a palm over his face. Given enough time, Steve would heal, physically. He kept repeating that fact in his mind, because it was the only good news the doctors had. The fact that his mind was in a completely different situation loomed over all of them.

Steve’s mind was… complicated. The scans showed he had extensive growths in his brain, probably introduced through the holes Slasher had somehow drilled in his skull. Dr. Cho had shown him the scans, how the growths had spread out like a root system.

A huge portion of them were in his language centre, she’d said, and were likely causing some of his difficulty communicating. What these growths _were_ was still unknown, but Bucky still hadn’t signed off on the biopsy.

He’d relented on the samples of Steve’s arm though. The growths there appeared identical, woven through his muscles and burrowing into his bone, right to the marrow. Their specialists had analyzed it for days, and they came back with some kind of alien fiber- still unknown. Dr. Cho said something about micro-filaments and lignin, but she lost him in the technical jargon.

They were taking scans daily; the stuff was spreading, both in his arm and head, and they had no clue how to stop it. Dr. Cho had suggested a specialized chemotherapy, hoping to kill the growth from the inside. She was confident Steve’s serum would let him bounce back afterwards.

Bucky had asked for time to think on that option. Steve was still so weak, could his system handle that right now? Dr. Cho thought so.

He had to get her an answer soon, because there was no telling how bad it might damage Steve’s mind. How bad it had already.

* * *

_Patient’s kidneys have fully regrown and appear functional, recommend patient be taken off dialysis. Nephrostomy was performed to allow urine drainage. Small growths in pelvic and groin regions suggest signs of bladder and penile regrowth, with possibility of full genitalia regrowth based on patient biology._

…

_Update: Bladder growth confirmed, suggest reversal of nephrostomy and installing artificial ureter/urethra to allow natural urination and encourage regrowth of renal system._

Excerpts of Urologist’s Report for patient S. G. Rogers

* * *

_Eight floors down._

The scratch of the pencil. Scratch, scratch, scratch. A line. Another. Another. Shade the space between.

_God is dead._

Line. Line. One more to connect the three. Another line, turn sharply, make a box. Connect them, shade the space.

_Demon seed._

Make a triangle. Bad angle, erase and do over.

Drawing one-eyed and one-legged was difficult. One-armed. His legs were fine.

_God is dead._

He couldn’t fix that.

Line. Line. Shade the space. Make a sharp angle. Scratch, scratch, scratch.

_Demon seed._

He understood, a little. It was sunny. Sorting. Thoughts were… fog, when they weren’t about seeds. Not seeds. The problem, not seeds. It was still sorting, but this- he was supposed to be fixing this. He was a solution. He didn’t understand how that was, but he was a solution. He was being ordained.

Shade the space. Make a box, connect it. Shade the space. Scratch, scratch, scratch.

“Steve, I brought you some soup”

_Demon seed._

He could fix this, maybe. He didn’t know. Function needed drive needed energy. He put the pencil down, he took the, the… round. The thing that held the… She just said it, she just _said_ … the _soup_ , the round held the soup, and he put the straw between his lips. He ate. His mouth was supposed to hurt.

_It doesn’t hurts._

Pain was heresy. That was a lesson quickly learned and corrected in his ordination. Pain was heresy, and there was no Creation for pain…

Something inside him cringed- these weren’t the right words for it. His thoughts were in concepts and words didn’t burrow right. He was falling on names and objects and ideas. There was no Creation for words, and so he was compensating with his own.

Things were still sorting. He had the concepts- enough of them at least. New concepts would… end sleeping. End sleeping… Wake. New concepts would wake. The path to being clergy would take time. Those weren’t the right words, but it was close.

He didn’t know everything yet, but he hoped it would come. He was still learning the Holy Scripture.

Function needed drive needed energy. He ate.

_God is dead._

He put the cup down- the _cup_ , now there was the word. Sometimes the words ran.

He picked up the pencil. Drew a line, and then another. Another. Scratch, scratch, scratch.

He was not God. But maybe he could fix this.

He was becoming clergy. He was a solution. There was Creation for a solution.

* * *

> From: msabos@hrt.gov  
> To: jbbarnes@avengers.org  
> Subject: RE: Xenobiological Study
> 
> Sergeant Barnes,
> 
> I understand. However, may I suggest an alternative? Rather than take our own samples, perhaps we can work with Captain Rogers’ medical team? We can look over his test results together in a shared environment, and perhaps share insights that can be beneficial to both our research.
> 
> Please let me know what you think.
> 
> Regards,
> 
> Dr. Mike Sabos, PhD, Zoology and Biochemistry  
> Harriman Research Team  
> msabos@hrt.gov  
> 315-555-4018 ext. 526

…

> From: Mail Delivery Subsystem  
> To: msabos@hrt.gov  
> Subject: RE: Xenobiological Study
> 
> Delivery to the following recipient failed permanently:
> 
> jbbarnes@avengers.org
> 
> Technical details of permanent failure:
> 
> Delivery of your message was rejected by the server for the recipient domain avengers.com.  
> [5Gvb7o3Dq.2c8::j1]
> 
> The error that the other server returned was:
> 
> 555-03.1.1 The email account that you tried to reach does not exist. Please try double checking the recipient’s email address for typos or unnecessary spaces. Learn more at support.fenlin.com/mail/?p=NgSuggUser

  
(Sample of work by S. G. Rogers)


	9. Chapter 9

_Species_ _011  
_ _Official name: Novis mellifera  
_ _Laymen name: Cherry-Picker_

_The cherry-picker is visually similar to that of Earth’s Opiliones (colloquially referred to as harvestmen or daddy longlegs), however, it is internally closer to the Anthophila clade (bees)._

_The cherry-picker can be identified by its compact, spherical body and six long legs, which can reach lengths of 3 metres long- though the body segment never appears to grow larger than 30 cm in diameter. Part of the cherry-picker’s name can be attributed to their bright red colouration, making them incredibly easy to spot._

_The cherry-picker appears to be exclusively a scavenger, though oddly, they also include dead plant matter in their scavenging diet. Autopsies of specimens has found these organisms contain a secondary stomach used for storage rather than digestion, though what the stored matter is used for is yet unknown._

_Cherry-pickers can be observed harvesting living plants native to the Occupied Zone using a secondary set of short, flattened legs located on the underbelly. These organisms collect plants with the roots intact and relocate them to less dense locations, effectively spreading the local flora._

_We have deemed the cherry-picker to pose maximum threat to life on Earth due to their active habits of cultivating invasive flora. It is recommended all individuals be destroyed on sight, especially any found attempting to plant near or beyond the border._

-Excerpt from page 22 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

_One month later._

“How did this happen?” Bucky asked slowly, holding his seething rage inside. He was keeping his tone in check because Steve was here, and he could pick up on agitation. A small improvement as of late, but it meant Bucky had to watch how he spoke.

“Obviously a lawsuit wasn’t enough of a deterrent” Tony said tiredly, rubbing his face.

They were seated in a conference room with- in addition to the three of them- Sam and the heads of legal and PR. Steve was here only because Bucky refused to leave him with either of his two remaining caregivers after what the third had done.

“All told, it wasn’t the worst thing she could’ve leaked” the PR head said.

“The content doesn’t matter, it’s that it happened at all!” Bucky snapped. He heard the scrape of pencil on paper stutter as Steve tensed, and he consciously calmed himself.

“She broke the terms of the NDA, any profit Ms. Bells would’ve earned from the video are forfeit and she’s facing immediate termination. Her certification is being reviewed, she may lose that as well. We can move forward with a lawsuit if you wish” the legal head supplied.

“What’s the point? None of us need any more money. Let her lose her license, she shouldn’t be caring for people in the first place” he said bitterly.

She nodded her head. “We can table the lawsuit as a deterrent from speaking out about Captain Rogers’ condition. She hasn’t done any interviews so far, and we’d like to keep it that way. Moving forward, we can make the NDA’s more binding, add further recourse in the event of-”

“A paper won’t guarantee no repeats, this case proves that already” Sam cut in, slouched in his seat, equally tired. They’d been having a hell of a time with the surge of press after Janine’s stunt, and it wore on all of them.

Tony leaned forward. “I could reinstate JARVIS-”

“No” Bucky said harshly.

“Wait, just hear me out” Tony implored, hand raised. Bucky sighed and waved for him to continue.

“I’ll keep the cameras offline, audio too. JARVIS will only monitor any outgoing signals. He can stop any recordings or information about Cap from getting out. We can also get the staff to sign off on a mandatory check-in-check-out system: all electronics logged when they enter, all stored data reviewed by JARVIS when they leave. Hell, we can confiscate their electronics before they even step foot in the building. If any of them try to sneak a recording out, we’ll know”

Bucky leaned back, thinking on it. It sounded better than nothing. He nodded, “Get on it”

“You catch that, JARVIS?”

“Yes sir. I have begun monitoring already. A memo has been sent to human resources as well as Ms. Benitez and Mr. Inai for review”

“So we’ve got future problems handled. What about the leak?” Sam asked.

The media was having a field day with the video, and it was bringing up a lot of questions from the public.

_Captain America looks fine, why isn’t he back on duty?_

_Why hadn’t the Avengers made an announcement of his recovery before?_

_Is there something still wrong with him?_

None of them wanted the public to know the real issue- that he had pervasive alien growths inside him, and he was barely autonomous. It was bad enough the research crew at the crash sight knew about it. They kept hounding Bucky to study Steve- who knew what other nutjobs would try to get their hands on him if they found out?

“There’s not much we can do now that the video’s out there, but we already have answers ready for this. We had intended to release these statements in another three weeks, but at this point there’s no harm in moving up the schedule” the PR head said, leaning forward. He handed out copies of the planned statement as he explained.

“We’ll be releasing an announcement that Captain Rogers is taking an indefinite leave of absence- he wishes to take time off to rest. To maintain his privacy at this time he will not be making any public appearances”

Bucky nodded, skimming the statement. They didn’t want to advertise Steve’s condition to any potential enemies either, and like the PR head had mentioned earlier, the released video didn’t reveal anything dire.

It had been fairly innocuous actually; a simple two-minute clip of Steve sitting comfortably in sweatpants and shirt, drawing in his sketchbook. The angle didn’t give away the eye-patch, the arm brace, nor the alien pattern he was compulsively drawing. To the viewer it would look like he was healthy and simply sketching in his free time.

They discussed a few alternatives to the press release, but it all amounted to the same message.

“There’s one more thing we have to address,” Tony said, as they finalized the release, “and that’s Bells’ replacement”

Bucky grit his teeth, holding back the urge to say they should get rid of the support workers entirely. As much as he didn’t like the thought of it, he needed them. Banner was in the wind, Thor visited at his own schedule, Wanda and Pietro where doing their own thing, and everyone else was sticking to their respective cities. The Avengers were short-staffed now more than ever, and Bucky couldn’t stay behind on missions when Hydra was involved, which was a problem.

Steve couldn’t be left alone.

He ate, but only if food was put in front of him. He didn’t so much shower as allow someone to undress him and put him under the spray. He didn’t change out of his clothes, but if someone took them off and put a new pair on for him, he’d tolerate it. He didn’t exercise, but put him on a treadmill and he’d walk. He’d do it as long as he could draw while it happened.

It was a minor miracle he would use the toilet and go to bed on his own. On the rare occasion, he’d even get himself a glass of water when he was thirsty.

Maybe if left alone, he’d make himself food too, but nobody wanted to starve him to test that theory.

It wasn’t difficult work by any means, but it required someone be with him constantly, and Bucky couldn’t be that person when unexpected missions cropped up.

“I already have a list of candidates, it’s the ones we didn’t pick from our last rounds. I’m thinking we go down the line, get our fourth pick” Tony went on in the silence, pulling up the qualifications on his tablet and passing it to Bucky, but he just waved it away. He didn’t need to see the them, he’d memorized the list of candidates the first go around.

Angela Beck, certified Personal Support Worker, six years experience working with the elderly, two years experience working with the mentally disabled, CPR and First Aid training up-to-date. Official background check clean; his own deep background check also clean. No ties to any dangerous organizations, same for immediate family and friends. Excellent references, warm praise from past employers. Social media presence minimal, and never any mention about the people in her care.

They’d passed her up simply because their top three choices either had slightly more experience or one more piece of certification she didn’t have- for example, Janine had an Arts degree. At the time, he’d thought it might come in handy with Steve’s only hobby.

Bucky forced himself to relax his jaw. “Get in touch with Beck, set up an interview. I wanna speak with her myself” he said, and Tony nodded. He’d take care of it. He’d been taking care of a lot of things, and refused to let Bucky pay for any of it.

“Is there anything else?” he asked. He got matching head shakes from the PR and legal heads.

“Nothing that needs your attention” Tony said.

“Then we’re done here” Bucky said as he stood, gently taking Steve’s arm and guiding him to stand as well, “We have an appointment to get to; you know how to get in touch”

“We still on for later?” Sam asked.

“Yeah” Bucky said. They’d made plans to just hangout, catch a game. _What_ game, Bucky didn’t know, and he didn’t care. It was an excuse for Sam to check in on Steve.

He gently guided Steve out, leaving the others to discuss whatever it was that they didn’t need him for. Steve went along mindlessly, engrossed in his drawing. Always his drawing.

* * *

> **Baily Allan** 8 hours ago
> 
> This man is a national hero, and he deserves to rest. The people saying he should be back on the front lines are despicable. Captain America has sacrificed everything to keep us safe, and he deserves time after the horrific trauma he went through. The fact that he *looks* okay doesn’t mean anything, trauma manifests in more ways than  
> Read more
> 
> Likes: 10.9K Dislikes: 349 Reply  
> View 2,048 replies
> 
> **Kuku1uck** 10 hours ago
> 
> OMG LOOK AT HIM!!!!!!!!!!! <3 <3 <3
> 
> Likes: 27.3K Dislikes: 21 Reply  
> View 824 replies
> 
> **Nathan G. Campbell** 2 hours ago (edited)
> 
> My cousin works at the hospital where they took Captain America, and he says the Avengers had spare skin (like graft stuff) for emergencies that they harvest when their healthy. He says they covered him with it like a skin suite. That’s crazy but looks like it worked.
> 
> He also says Slasher took off ALL his skin, like… on his dick too. Could you fucking imagine? I’m getting shivers thinking about it.
> 
> (EDIT) The people in replys saying that’s fake can go fucking  
> Read more
> 
> Likes: 5.5K Dislikes: 7K Reply  
> View 1,487 replies
> 
> **Harsh Dayal** 8 hours ago
> 
> lul he looks fine, he should get back to work. fake news
> 
> Likes: 8.4K Dislikes: 17K Reply  
> View 545 replies
> 
> **_L** 7 hours ago
> 
> He looks completely healthy, I don’t even see any bandages (maybe the angle is bad though). Still, makes me wonder if he was ever hurt. All we saw was some fucked-up dude, could’ve been anyone Slasher vomited out. How do we even know it was Captain America? What are they hiding? Why would they want people to think Captain America was down? I’ll tell you why, the government is  
> Read more
> 
> Likes: 2.9K Dislikes: 12.7K Reply  
> View 6,263 replies

Top 5 Comments on YouTube for video titled “Captain America Lives”

  
(Sample of work by S. G. Rogers)


	10. Chapter 10

_Species_ _085  
_ _Official name: Novis_ _chrysogium  
_ _Laymen name: Beacon Sapling_

_The beacon sapling is categorized as a type of fungi, with a tall and narrow fibrous extrusion that appears similar to a young tree, with additional leaf-like protrusions at the tip. These growths typically reach up to 1.5 metres in height. The leaves are a vibrant yellow, making the growth resemble a torch._

_The saplings have been found to be a clonal colony, where each individual extrusion is part of a single living organism. The organism spreads through underground roots (mycelium), sprouting extrusions in intervals between 2-5 metres apart._

_It is believed this growth has a symbiotic relationship with the coin beetle (see page 40). The beetles can be seen boring nests into the sapling, which they use to lay their eggs and take shelter. In turn, the sapling draws nutrients from the beetle’s excrement._

_Due to the nature of how this organism grows, it is likely to spread beyond the Occupied Zone’s borders. Destruction of the visible fruiting bodies is ineffective- the root system is what must be destroyed. Soil sterilization has been proposed for the cleared area of the border to dissuade any more spreading._

-Excerpt from page 138 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

They were on the medical floor, Steve changed into a gown with Bucky’s help. Dr. Cho was patient, as always.

They did the usual- checking under the eye-patch, inspecting his nose, inspecting his mouth, testing his hand for movement and nerve issues, checking under the gown for… progress. Regrowing.

“Most of the eye’s structure is finished, the cornea has fully sealed, and I’m starting to see bits of pigmentation in the iris. The pupil is still unresponsive, and the retina has some holes still filling in, but we know the optic nerve connected last checkup”

Bucky nodded, listening attentively.

“The nose looks fine on the outside, but the cartilage is not all there yet. Keep avoiding any kind of pressure in that area, and take note of how many sneezes and resulting nosebleeds occur”

“Gums look healthy still, teeth are all good. Still a little more growth on the back molars, but they should be fully in soon. Keep using the soft brush, but hold off on flossing”

“His throat muscles are still a little weak, so keep him on soft foods for now, we’ll reassess next checkup”

“I’m not finding any nerve problems in the hand, and I think we can remove the brace in a few days”

“His genitals are making good progress, but keep an eye on his urination, we have to watch out if his urethra grows in too narrow. His testes are still under-formed, I don’t think we’ll see sperm production for a while”

Bucky nodded, breathing through his nose. Hearing this in particular always felt dehumanizing on Steve’s behalf.

Then came the more in-depth tests- the x-rays, the blood tests, and the brain scan. All the while asking Bucky for an update, for any changes; eating (normal), drinking (normal), urination (normal), behaviour-

“He’s noticing anger and sadness in others. He gets anxious, I think. He tenses a little”

That gave her pause. “Can you specify that, please?”

He listed what he noticed, and she frowned. “Has he shown this anxiety with anyone else, or just you?”

“The support workers are always calm, and he doesn’t see others much. Any visitors he gets are walking on eggshells around him… so just with me I guess” He frowned- he hadn’t thought about that before. Was Steve keying into _him_ , specifically?

“Keep watching out for any other changes in behaviour. It’s good that he’s noticing things, but let’s try not to put undue stressors on him”

Bucky agreed.

Then the results: x-rays the same, blood tests the same, brains scan the same. Always the same, no more changes.

“His lung scarring is still there, and I’m concerned for why it hasn’t healed given the rest of his progress. I’d like to schedule a biopsy of the scar tissue for next week”

Bucky frowned, looking to Steve. “Can he handle that?”

He’d been eating solids for a week now, but his body was still in the process of filling in from the near emaciation he’d been tottering towards. Christ, but he’d lost sixty pounds in the first week alone as his body cannibalized itself to live. The serum could be brutal sometimes.

“It’ll be minimally invasive, and he won’t be at risk of any complications at this point”

Bucky nodded, setting a date for it.

Steve’s body had absorbed the alien lung before they could remove it, and the fact that it had left a scar had everyone confused and worried. Steve didn’t _get_ scars.

What was more, while his body had removed the foreign organ, it had done nothing for the strange fibers in his flesh. The alien growths had spread drastically, and there had been nothing to be done about it. The chemo wouldn’t take. Surgical removal was out- even amputation was off the table, extreme as it was, because that wasn’t optional for the brain.

They’d sat back helplessly as it branched out, overtaking his mind and arm like vines, running down his brain stem, while the growth in his arm slithered upwards to his shoulder. They’d been scanning him twice daily to track the progress, right up until the growths met at the junction of his neck and shoulder.

The two cancerous tendrils connected, merged, and suddenly _stopped_. Every time they checked after, the fibers would be exactly as they’d been- one long system from his brain to his fingers.

Until they figured out what the stuff was, they had no choice but to leave it. Every visit the doctor’s pushed for more biopsies, until Bucky eventually put a stop to it. They weren’t getting anywhere, and the weekly samples were becoming excessive.

Dr. Cho had a few more questions, a few more instructions for care, and they were finally done. Bucky couldn’t get them out of there fast enough, helping Steve dress and then taking them back up to their floor.

He left Steve sitting on the couch to draw while he went to their room and sat on the bed. He emptied his pocket of the handful of pencils he carried around when they weren’t in their apartment and sighed. He just needed a minute.

Checkups were always difficult, always reminding him what was wrong with Steve. He’d also be lying if he said they didn’t set his teeth on edge with their similarity to Hydra exams. Dr. Cho was professional, but while her impartial demeanor made the difficult topics easier to hear, it also made her sound like a tech. She spoke to him like Steve wasn’t there- but with how unresponsive he was, he might as well have been out of the room.

It still didn’t make it any easier.

He sighed, turning to look at the framed picture of him and Steve on the nightstand. They were at the beach, on a private island Tony owned. It had felt opulent at the time, but it was also the only way the two of them could’ve gotten any privacy these days. The public wasn’t aware of their relationship, and they rather it be kept that way.

Lately he’d been filling the place with even more photographs of the two of them, more than they’d even had at the apartment. He just… he needed _Steve_ , needed his presence, and the quiet man living in the apartment wasn’t him. Bucky loved him, would always be there for him, but seeing that blank face day after day hurt in a terrible way. How had Steve dealt with it? How had he gone on when it had been Bucky who’d been blank-faced and absent?

Maybe the others would know?

Maybe they’d judge him for asking. Who was he to complain, when Steve had done this for him tenfold?

In any case, he was sure the support workers had picked up on what he and Steve were- if the photographs didn’t give it away, then the fact that they slept in the same bed probably did. They saw how he followed Steve to bed, how he dismissed them for the night, choosing to change Steve’s clothes and brush his teeth himself. How only Bucky ever took Steve to shower.

None of the care workers had commented on it, and they’d been the epitome of professional support. They’d been exemplary, in fact, treating Steve with dignity and compassion- which had made Janine’s betrayal especially unexpected. For Christ’s sake, he was on a first-name basis with all of them. Now he’d be scrutinizing Kevin and Magdalena again, like he had at the beginning.

And Angela Beck, if she made the cut.

* * *

> Clinical Information  
> Dark mass seen on scans on lower left/right lungs
> 
> Specimen  
> Surface needle biopsy, right lower lobe
> 
> Gross Description  
> The specimen consists of 2cm by 3cm portion of lung. Gross section shows the area to be granular with punctate hemorrhages and light-red in colour
> 
> Microscopic Description  
> Granulated tissue appears to be laden with fibroblasts forming type-III collagen. Microscopic blood vessels and connective tissue evident. Tissue has grown in excess forming caro luxurians
> 
> Chemical Analysis  
> Sample was found to have trace amounts of calcium-40 and argon-40 (<0.0000001%)
> 
> Diagnosis  
> Sample is consistent with typical granulation tissue found in wounds. No malignancies found in structure. Trace amounts of chemical irritants believed to be the reason for slowed healing time. Patient’s biology expected to flush out compounds and complete healing without issue

Excerpt of Pathology Report for Patient S. G. Rogers

  
(Sample of work by S. G. Rogers)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for worms, and a picture of worms at the end of this chapter.  
> I love my noodle friends, but I know for some folks they can be unpleasant, so take care of yourselves.

_Species 005  
_ _Official name: Novis carcomedenti  
_ _Laymen name: Piranha Worm_

_The piranha worm is similar to that of Earth’s Nematoda phylum (roundworm family). It is characterized by a tubular body shape of turquoise colouring, ranging from 4 to 10 cm long._

_The organism lives in swarms of 20 to 100 worms, with individuals never leaving the mass. There does not seem to be any hierarchy as would be seen in insect hives, and movement is dictated similar to the murmurations of swarming birds._

_The piranha worm’s name lends to its feeding habits, where the mass will frenzy upon coming in contact with any form of soft-tissue. A hard-tipped beak allows the worm to burrow under the skin, where it will tunnel into the flesh to feed._

_The feeding is particularly gruesome due to the worm’s inefficient digestive system, which is a single track from the openings at both ends of the body. The movements of the worm causes it to funnel eaten tissue through its body within minutes, requiring that it continually consume for a prolonged period in order to absorb enough nutrients._

_Recorded studies have found a mass of 70 worms to strip a 300lbs pig carcass to the bone in under 2 hours, leaving the soft tissue in a liquefied state around the skeleton. The worms will then re-consume the partially digested material for hours on end._

_Of note, the worm does not seem to possess any sensory abilities beyond touch, and does not sense the presence of other organisms unless physical contact is made._

_We have deemed the piranha worm to pose maximum threat to life on Earth due to its devastating feeding habits. It is recommended all masses be destroyed on sight, and contact be strictly avoided._

-Excerpt from page 15 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

> From: humanresources@starkindustries.com  
> To: beck86@gmail.com  
> Subject: Personal Support Worker Position
> 
> Hello Ms. Beck,
> 
> I am following up on our phone conversation and confirming your employment with Stark Industries as a Personal Support Worker.
> 
> Please show up at 11am on Friday, Floor 52, Room 6A to sign the necessary paperwork. You will also be provided a Stark Phone and Laptop to be kept on premises.
> 
> Attached are copies of the forms you will be signing before you begin your duties. Do not hesitate to contact me if you have any questions.
> 
> After signing, you will be completing a four hour workplace orientation which you will be compensated for. Your first shift will begin the following Monday starting at 6am and ending Wednesday at 6am.
> 
> Have a nice day,
> 
> Kaitlyn Samie, Human Resources  
> Stark Industries  
> humanresources@starkindustries.com  
> 628-555-7763 ext. 0483
> 
> (6) Attachments
> 
> …
> 
> SI_EMPLOYMENT_CONTRACT(1A)  
> SI_EMPLOYMENT_CONTRACT(1B)  
> SI_NDA_AGREEMENT  
> ELECTRONIC_DEVICE_AGREEMENT  
> LIABILITIES_FORM  
> DIRECT_DEPOSIT_FORM

* * *

For Bucky, time started to pass in progress and missions.

* * *

A month and a half after he and Steve started living on their floor in the tower, Hydra made their fifteenth attempt to steal from the Occupied Zone.

As per the Avengers’ new policy, they no longer entered the Occupied Zone to go after them. Half the time Hydra never even made it back out. Bucky never felt anything when those Hydra soldiers ended up in the Collection as grotesque statues.

The raids that _did_ successfully grab something never made it past the border, where the Avengers waited in ambush.

So far no bugs had been smuggled out by Hydra.

* * *

Two weeks later, Dr. Cho declared Steve fully healed. There was nothing else to regrow, nothing left to mend. Everything except the cords of alien fibers, thick as veins at their largest and smaller than the head of a pin at their smallest.

The whole team celebrated with a big dinner on their floor, Kevin off in his guest room to leave them to it, but nearby if needed.

Tony had caterers bring up a full-course meal, complete with three roasted chickens, pork-chops, nearly every kind of steamed veggie platter, and an honest-to-god apple pie.

Clint and Sam had conspired together and brought four pizzas, while Natasha’s generous contribution of two bottles of vodka and a two litre tub of ice cream earned no complaints.

Bucky smiled more that day than he had for a month. He didn’t think he’d been so happy for a while, even if the vice in his chest remained a constant background feeling. It wasn’t so noticeable with the others around, eating and laughing and pretending Steve was part of the conversation while he switched between quietly shoveling food in his mouth or drawing.

The highlight of the evening was when Clint left his untouched shot of vodka a little too close to Steve’s area of table. Steve thoughtlessly grabbed it and drank, only to promptly lean over his chair and spit it out onto the floor.

There was a downbeat, then everyone burst into laughter- except Steve of course, who went back to his drawing like it hadn’t happened.

Bucky laughed so hard he doubled over, tears leaking from his eyes. If anyone caught the sob that slipped out, they didn’t comment on it.

* * *

Three days later, Hydra made another incursion into the Occupied Zone.

The Avengers were halfway to the park when they were informed Slasher had gotten to them first.

They turned back mid-flight.

* * *

Another eight days passed, and Steve showed his first sign of interest since before the attack.

Bucky had returned to their apartment after fighting another Hydra raid on the border, the gunfire forcing them into the edge of the zone. He’d ducked behind a balloon-looking plant when one of the soldiers rained bullets on him, causing the thing to exploded in a thick goo and coat him completely.

Decontamination had only washed off the surface sludge, but the harmless substance hadn’t warranted a thorough scrubbing. The decon tech had even commented that the stuff was good for the skin, like aloe. Bucky wasn’t especially feeling the benefits as it squelched in every small crevice of his body during debrief.

He returned to the apartment and spared a moment to check on Steve. He and Angela were seated in the main room, watching something on the TV- or Angela was, at least. Steve had his attention wholly focused on his drawing.

Angela greeted him with a quiet hello and wave, a welcome smile on her lips. Everything looked as it should, and he returned the wave offhandedly as he moved passed to go shower.

He was tired and sore, and he didn’t bother putting on a shirt when he finished, forgetting that Angela was still in the apartment.

He caught her quickly looking away as he entered the main room, and the red flush in her cheeks as she gazed back at the TV was unexpected. He knew he turned heads sometimes, with the right coat and pants- but without a shirt, people only ever gawked at his arm and the scarring around it.

Angela didn’t seem to mind it though, and he let himself have a small smile for himself.

Feeling a little buoyed at the unintentional compliment, he turned to see how Steve was doing. The smile fell from his face and his stomach dropped as he caught the quick movement from Steve. He’d almost missed it, but it had been there.

For a second, Steve had been looking at him. Actually _look_ _ing_ at him.

Steve didn’t _look_ , it just wasn’t something he did now. He was consumed with his drawing, everything else got a glance at best. It didn’t matter what was happening, what he was doing- eating, walking, bathing- his art was always in his line of sight to be stared at, first and foremost.

And this wasn’t the first time Bucky had been bared to Steve. He went to bed shirtless every night. Steve saw him naked regularly during his showers, when Bucky would go in with him to do all the washing. All that time around Steve, and he never once looked.

Until just now.

And then he’d looked away again, like he’d been caught doing something bad.

Bucky swallowed thickly. He forced himself to move naturally, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch from Steve.

“Hey pal, you doing alright?” he asked. Another minute passed and Steve paused his drawing to scribble in the margin. He held the page out so Bucky could see the phrase _demon seed_ written in cursive. He tapped it twice with the end of his pencil, then pulled the sketchbook back to continue his drawing. He kept his eyes downcast the entire time.

Bucky hummed, worrying his lip as he stared. After a minute of silence with only the sound of the narrator on the television, Bucky went ahead and told Steve about the mission. He spoke quietly enough for Angela to pick up no more than a mumble, but Steve’s enhanced hearing would catch every word.

It had become a routine to tell Steve what happened on missions. Bucky had the vague hope that he was listening, even if he never reacted. Then he’d ask what Steve had been up to, more out of habit than anything, and Steve would always answers with _demon seed_ or _God is dead_ scribbled next to his drawings. Later, he’d get a summary from Angela of what they’d done for the day.

As Bucky spoke, he half-followed the TV. He’d turn to watch during the lulls in their one-sided conversation. It was something about how violin bows were made. His full attention was on Steve though, and he’d caught him peeking more than once when he had his eyes on the screen.

Every time Bucky turned his head however, Steve’s gaze would cut back down to his drawing. Even the slightest movement sent Steve retreating.

So Bucky sat sniper-still and kept his eyes strictly on the screen, putting his whole focus into his periphery as he watched for when Steve slyly cast glances at him. The looks alone had him marveling, but what especially got him was the small blush traveling down Steve’s neck. Bucky was awestruck by it.

Angela didn’t notice at all, her movements too obvious and giving Steve ample time to hide. The fact that her gaze would also pull to Bucky first also helped to distract.

It was such a small thing, the glances, but over two months of nothing made them so big. It was like Before, when they’d been teens and he’d catch Steve looking, not knowing what it had meant. It was like After, when he barely remembered his own name but caught Steve looking, confused at what he was seeing in Bucky’s body that Bucky himself did not.

It had taken days and weeks and months of nights, of learning and relearning each other’s bodies. Bucky had endured all of Steve’s compliments and whispered praise, until he stopped enduring and started believing them. Started enjoying them, even.

He still had issues. God knew he had issues. Pockets of doubt in his worth and value and yes, sometimes his appearance- but never with Steve. If there was one thing Steve couldn’t get enough of, it was Bucky.

So the sudden looks? The blushing?

That was Steve.

That was _his_ Steve.

And he hoped to God that was a good thing.

* * *

_Demon seed. _

Over and over and over. There were holes in the scripture but he didn’t know where, he wasn’t meant to know where. He was a vessel for Solution but he could feel it turning over in his mind. Over and over and over. He’d been preaching the same scripture for days, trying new angles and none of them were right.

_ Demon seed. _

He was not God, goddammit. He couldn’t write the text. All he knew was that it was demon seed, and what good was that? The Gardener was not God either, and her faith was in Solution? All he was preaching was demon seed.

He wished he had better words, he _knew_ better words, before. He was falling on religion because that was as close as it got, and everything else was stagnate.

Everyday he got closer, but he was also getting farther. Creation was a set definition, and it was not within reach of, of-

It was not within reach of-?

_ Demon seed. _

Words, he didn’t have the _words_ for it. He knew what he was trying to say but couldn’t get the words.

And then there was Bucky, and why did that suddenly matter? Steve was a Solution, he didn’t have time to-

He didn’t have time to-?

_ Demon seed. _

He needed to work. And there was Bucky, shirtless, and why was it becoming different?

_ Demon seed. _

Something inside was changing?

  
(Image of piranha worm mass, taken by discovery team)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psssst, hey. Hover over the words "Demon seed" in Steve's pov. For those on mobile or who can't otherwise access it, the hover text is also written below.
> 
> -This isn't working
> 
> -God could fix this, but I am not God. I am a soldier. I am an artist
> 
> -It's code, it's pattern, and it's broken. They need me to fix it because they cannot. But I have to do it my way
> 
> -I love you Bucky, but I have to do this. I know this hurts you, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't stop. I can't stop. The Solution has to play out
> 
> -I'm going to change the code. If I can get it right, then maybe I can resurrect God. I can't get the words out, but I love you Bucky. Know that I love you


	12. Chapter 12

_Species 003  
_ _Official name: Novis magna anthonomus  
_ _Laymen name: Giant Weevil_

_The giant weevil is similar to that of Earth’s Curculionoidea superfamily (common weevil). It is physically similar to the true weevil, with a Head, Thorax, and Abdomen, and the visually distinctive elbowed antenna that form a snout._

_Individuals appear to continually grow until reaching sizes of between 2-3 metres long, with a height variance of 1-1.5 metres. Upon reaching full-size, individuals begin asexual reproduction._

_Young weevils do not undergo egg-larvae-pupa cycles, but emerge fully-formed. In their only act of carnivorous behaviour, the young feed on the adult before emerging. A single weevil will produce 200-600 young upon death. Subsequent predation from other organisms ensures only 1-4 of these young reach adulthood._

_The weevil is seen to exclusively feed on plants native to the Occupied Zone (with the exception of parental cannibalism), and show no interest in Earth-native organisms._

_We have deemed the giant weevil to pose minimal threat to life on Earth. It is recommended that any individuals within 6 metres of the Occupied Zone’s border be destroyed._

-Excerpt from page 14 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

The next day, Bucky learned they were taking bugs out of the Occupied Zone.

“What the _fuck_ ” he said angrily, reading over the memo.

“Are they fucking crazy?” Sam said, echoing his sentiment.

“Yeah, I’m not a fan” Tony agreed.

“It’s not exactly our decision. The UN’s sending us this memo as a courtesy, they already have the facility built” Maria said. She’d been the one to bring them the news.

The Avengers were gathered in a meeting room, called in because of an update with the Occupied Zone. The research team wanted to study the bugs more closely, and they planned on taking specimens out to a research facility.

“Did they not notice the constant Hydra raids on the area?” Natasha asked.

“They’re taking precautions with their security-”

“I can see five ways to break in from these preliminaries already” Natasha cut in, speed-reading her way through the data.

“They’ve also requested the Avengers come in as consultants for security measures” Maria said, which only got a _hmm_ from Natasha.

“How far out are they taking them?” Sam asked.

“Less than a mile away. Far enough that if Hydra _does_ try something, it won’t attract any more bugs, but close enough that if something gets out they can easily contain it, maybe direct it back into the zone. In case of a catastrophic breach, they can easily extend the border around the facility, expand the zone by an extra square mile”

“I don’t like it” Tony muttered.

On that Bucky agreed, but Maria had made it clear what this message was- they weren’t asking the Avengers for permission. The request for consult was a good smooth-over, but no amount of security would stop Hydra from trying to break in- and they were certainly going to try.

“I want to be part of the consultation team, and I’ll be doing a full inspection of the building” Natasha said, making it clear it wasn’t a request.

Maria nodded, “I’ll make sure it happens” Her gaze went around the table at the rest of them, “Anyone else want to take on the consult? Stark? Barnes?”

Tony waved a hand. “Just send me your report, Red, I’ll build whatever sensors and locks you need”

Bucky kept his eyes on the paper and muttered his declination. He’d go if Hydra was there, but otherwise wild horses couldn’t drag him back.

“Nobody else?”

There was a resounding silence in the room, and Maria took it in stride, marking something in her notes. “I’ll get in contact with their liaison and set a date for inspection,” she told Natasha. “and if there’s nothing more on this, our next topic is the research team’s requests to access to Rogers’ medical files”

Bucky closed his eyes and took a breath. Fucking vultures.

* * *

Three weeks later saw Steve make the first real change in his art.

They’d filled the apartment with art supplies. The main room held stacks of blank canvases and an easel in one corner. There was a whole shelf of paints and brushes to choose from, anything from acrylic to oil to watercolours. Every surface had at least one mug on it, stuffed full with pencils, markers, pens, and crayons.

Then there was the paper- so much paper. Stacks of empty sketchbooks lay every five feet, and invariably there’d be a loose sheet lying somewhere as Steve tore them out when he made a mistake he couldn’t erase, opting to start all over again. The drawing tablet always sat untouched.

All of these art supplies collected in abundance and available for Steve to use. They didn’t want a repeat of the hospital incident.

He naturally gravitated towards the pencils, filling every pages with his repetitive patterns, then tossing them aside to pick up the next blank book. At the end of the day his fingers would be smudged with graphite, and pencil shavings would lay around him like he’d shed the stuff.

Today he touched the paints for the first time.

Bucky was in the gym with Natasha when Jarvis relayed Magdalena’s message, saying only that Steve was “moving furniture”. He dropped the weights where he stood and hastily went to the elevator, Natasha following behind. She gave him a questioning look at the doors, and he nodded his permission for her to come.

“She’d tell you if something was wrong. He’s only moving furniture, it doesn’t have to be bad” Natasha said on the way up, the ride unbearably slow. He knew what she was doing, and he didn’t appreciate it. He didn’t need to be handled.

“I’m fine”

“I didn’t say you weren’t” she said, side-eyeing him.

The doors opened and he entered their apartment slowly, weary of making too sudden of an entrance and spooking Steve. Natasha followed his lead and put on an air of nonchalance.

Magdalena was standing at the entrance of the living room, watching attentively with her arms crossed. She didn’t turn to greet Bucky, instead keeping a watchful eye on Steve.

“He pushes everything away and takes the pictures down” she said in her accented voice, motioning to the couch and end tables crowded in the centre of the room, the coffee table shoved nearly against the kitchen island. Picture frames that had once been on the wall were neatly stacked on the couch cushions, the hooks pulled out and piled on the counter.

Steve had taken all the black paint off the shelf and was kneeling on the floor, meticulously running a brush against the wall. Bucky could see the painstaking slowness he was taking to paint the corner of a shape.

“I don’t think he will have enough to finish” Magdalena added, and Bucky was inclined to agree. He’d seen enough of Steve’s work to see this would be a scaled-up version. Likely it would take the whole wall.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed for JARVIS, the only way to access the AI on this floor for non-emergencies. The phone didn’t even ring when JARVIS’s voice came on.

“Hello Sergeant Barnes”

“Hey JARVIS. I need more black paint as soon as possible, is there any in the tower or will I need to go out? I need it in bulk”

“The tower has stores of alkyd paint for machinery parts, however, if this paint is for Captain Rogers’ hobby, I can recommend several art supply stores in the area with more suitable paints. I can have one of our employed attendants fetch the material if you wish”

Bucky thought about going himself for all of a second.

“If it’s not too much trouble”

“It is no trouble at all. Estimated time of delivery will be forty minutes”

“Thank you”

“My pleasure, Sergeant Barnes. Is there anything else I can be of assistance with?”

“No, nothing...” Bucky paused, eyeing the wall and how high it went.

“Actually, could we get a stepladder in here too?”

“I will have one of the custodial staff bring one up immediately”

“Thanks JARVIS, but there’s no rush. Just have it brought up with the paint”

“Of course. Is there anything else I can be of assistance with?”

“No, that’s all. Thank you”

“My pleasure. Have a good day, Sergeant Barnes”

“You too”

Bucky hung up, sliding the phone back in his pocket. He stood by with Magdalena and Natasha, watching Steve solemnly paint the wall with precise strokes, the slow rasp of the brush creating a methodical rhythm.

* * *

Steve painted from the base of the wall nearly to the ceiling, using nothing but a small brush meant for canvas work. The larger brushes sat untouched, though he did used the ladder.

Watching Steve work was as mesmerizing as it was painful. He ran the brush in smooth, steady movements with the laser-focus of extreme neuroticism. The angles were sharp and the lines were perfectly straight. All of it was done by hand.

They had to sedate him twice so far.

He didn’t eat, he didn’t drink, he didn’t sleep. He paused _once_ to piss in the kitchen sink, and then it was back to the wall. His joints creaked when he moved from how long he spent in one position, either crouched or bent over or leaning off the ladder for hours on end.

Bucky tried to pull him away only once. Steve hadn’t gotten violent, but the harsh shove had set Bucky stumbling, and the warning was received.

Something about the painting had set Steve’s compulsion to its worst, and he wouldn’t stop. Maybe he couldn’t stop?

The first sedation was to make him rest after two straight days without stopping, and they’d given him fluids and nutrients intravenously, and left in the IV when he woke. He didn’t try to pull the needle out when he got out of bed to go back to his painting, but it was a near thing as he carelessly dragged the IV stand along by the tubing.

They sedated him a second time for the same reason, another two days without rest. Bucky spent that night laying next to Steve in their bed, watching him in his drugged sleep. Steve’s eyes had dark rings under them, and his arms had dabs of black smeared all the way to the elbow. A few smears of paint had even gotten in his hair.

After two hours of staring, Bucky got up and grabbed a wet cloth to gently wash the paint off Steve.

During the day, the team came and went to check on them, often sitting with Bucky on the now-relocated couch to watch Steve work, like it was some kind of show. They talked about missions or projects or nothing in particular, tip-toeing around the Steve-sized elephant in the room directly across from them.

Clint and Sam were sitting with him on the sixth day when Bucky snapped.

“You know, we could move the TV over by the corner, catch the Mets game tomorrow” Sam suggested.

Clint made an agreeable noise around a mouthful of pizza. “Oh, that sounds good. I’ll bring the beer, you bring the food, and Bucky also brings the food”

“Why can’t you bring any food?”

Clint raised his hands. “Oh, sorry Mister _Clint-Can-You-Bring-Something-Other-Than-Pizza_ , I thought I was being considerate”

“Man, just bring wings or something, it’s always pizza with you”

“Hey, if you want me to bring food then you’re getting pizza. It’s like a life staple”

“Okay, Clint? Clint? I need you to be honest with me right now. When was the last time you ate a fruit?”

“I mean, it’s not my favourite, but I’ll get Hawaiian toppings-”

“Can you both just stop?” Bucky snapped, hunching down further in the couch.

Two sets of eyes turned to him, but Bucky kept his gaze fixed on Steve, who hadn’t made any sign that he heard. A week ago he would’ve flinched at Bucky’s tone, and now it was like he was right back at the start, mindless of anything but the work in front of him.

“You okay man?” Clint asked.

“Can you just… can you stop making excuses to visit? You don’t need come up with reasons to see him, okay? You can check on Steve whenever you want, I’m not hiding him away” he said bitterly.

There was silence, and he could feel their eyes boring into him.

“You know we’re not just here for Steve, right?” Sam said carefully. “We’re worried about you too. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’ve stopped being around”

Bucky scoffed. “I see you guys all the time”

“You mean when we’re on mission, or when you’re in the gym for twelve hours and not talking?” Clint asked. Bucky went still at those words.

“Yeah, we noticed that” Sam said. “You think we’ve all been clocking extra training for fun? You’re either holed up in here or working yourself to the bone. We’re worried about you man. You don’t talk anymore, you’re not eating, and from the looks of it, you ain’t sleeping either. You’re pulling away and wallowing in your misery because you miss Steve even though he’s right there” Sam waved him arm in Steve’s direction.

“I’m fine” Bucky looked away, uncomfortable with Sam’s read on him.

“You’re not, man. You’re really not” Sam said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “And we ain’t blaming or judging. We’re here for you, okay? If you wanna talk, or not be alone, or anything, we’re here”

“Yeah, we just don’t want you cutting yourself off from everything. And like, I get wanting to stick around Steve, so we’ll come to you, it’s no trouble” Clint added.

Had he been that bad? When _was_ the last time he saw them outside of missions or training?

There were plenty of time, actually. He’d watched practically every local sport’s game with either Sam or Clint or both, and he and Natasha often spent a night drinking together after Steve went to bed- not that the alcohol effected either of them- and he saw Tony at least once a week when he stopped by to mention a new improvement for gear-

And now Bucky was realizing that these things all happened in the apartment. Everyone was coming to him because he’d stopped going out.

But was that surprising? Every time he’d gone out before, it had been with Steve. He was the tag-along, Steve was the lead, like a reversal of their youth.

They were Bucky’s friends too, though, not just Steve’s. He hadn’t… He’d forgotten, in all this mess, that they were _his_ friends too. When had that happened?

Bucky smiled weakly, looking both men in the eye in turn and nodding. He couldn’t word his thanks, his voice caught in his throat.

“Now, come help me move the TV, ‘cause watching Picasso here is great and all, but I’d like to watch something that isn’t literal paint drying on the wall” Sam said, getting up.

Bucky barked an unexpected laugh at that, realizing he’d been doing just that this whole time.

* * *

> _I can’t believe this. I didn’t think the system went this deep- holy shit, this means the whole thing is interconnected._
> 
> _I don’t even know how I’m supposed to report this, this wasn’t a sanctioned experiment. They think I’m only using contrast dyes, never mind pig’s blood._
> 
> _Never mind my own blood. Fuck. I’m going to get written up for this._
> 
> _Well now I know how Slasher got interested in Rogers. I still don’t know why, or how it could pick him out of all the other people, but the whole implication means it’s bigger than we thought._
> 
> _I need to look at the digestive systems more closely. How does the sequence transfer? How is it stored?_
> 
> _I have to report this._
> 
> _And I need to get samples of Rogers’ blood, run it through the whole cycle. I need to see how the other bugs react to it._

Excerpt from the Personal Journal of Dr. Mike Sabos, member of the Harriman Research Team

  
(Sample of work by S. G. Rogers)


	13. Chapter 13

_Species 063  
_ _Official name: Novis pila ferocactus  
_ _Laymen name: Melon_

_The melon is categorized as most similar to that of the Cactaceae (cactus) family. It can be identified as a light green, bulbous plant measuring between 1-2 metres tall, with a 1 metre diameter at its widest. The surface is smooth and lacking any spines commonly seen in cacti._

_The inside of this plant consists entirely of a viscous liquid encased in thickened flesh._

_Many organisms inside the Occupied Zone use this plant as a means to collect fluids, bypassing natural water sources in favour of extracting the plant’s inner fluids._

_Samples of this fluid have found it contains a salt mixture of 46mg per 100 ml of water, however, there are no sources in the area that provide enough salt for such a ratio at this volume. How the plant is producing this salt content is still unknown, but it appears to be a vital resource for the alien organisms._

-Excerpt from page 111 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

Steve finished the painting after nine days.

The huge landscape took up most of the wall. As the thing slowly came together, Bucky noted it was different from his other works in a way that wasn’t just a variation of the usual. It was less… crowded, maybe. He didn’t know how to describe the difference exactly, but it wasn’t as fragmented as his drawings. It was simpler.

As Steve neared its finish, Bucky realized it could be the first of many. With apprehension he’d cleared the furniture and pictures away from another wall. Steve would be too weak to do it himself.

For nine days, Steve’s only food had come from an IV, and he’d slowly run himself ragged with constant strain and no rest. His eyes had gone sallow and bloodshot, his hair disheveled and greasy.

If he started on another painting, they’d have to sedate him again for the day.

Steve finished in false stops, stepping back to inspect his work, then returning to adjust something. He did this for hours, long after Kevin had gone to bed, leaving Bucky alone in the silence of their apartment with the steady whisper of the brush as the only sound.

Bucky had taken to staying out in the living room and sleeping on the couch, but tonight he stayed up with the painting’s imminent completion looming over them.

It was sometime after four in the morning that Steve finally dropped his brush, and the clatter of it on the floor had been like gunshots to Bucky’s ears.

“Is it done?” he asked in a scratchy voice, but Steve didn’t acknowledge him. He stood there in the middle of the room, staring at his work and swaying lightly. Bucky heard Steve’s stomach grumble a pitiable noise that the nearly-empty IV couldn’t sate.

Bucky stood and slowly approached, making his steps loud and obvious. Silently, he pulled out a power-bar and unwrapped it, holding it towards Steve with hope.

To his great relief, Steve took it. His fingertips brushed along Bucky’s palm as he did, and that small contact had his knees weak.

Steve practically inhaled the bar, but his eyes stayed focused on the wall, half-glazed and exhausted. Bucky left him like that, going to the fridge. He returned with two pre-blended smoothies. Steve finished them each in four huge swallows.

“Why don’t you sit down pal? I’ll make us something filling” he said, already heading back to the kitchen.

Maybe he’d planned to do it already, but much to Bucky’s surprise, Steve actually listened. Bucky watched as Steve collapsed onto the couch, a weary sigh escaping his lips as he regarded his work.

Bucky returned with two microwave-heated dinners, opting for quick calories over freshness. Steve ate them ravenously, like a starving dog with little care for what he was being given. Bucky kept ferrying meals and snacks, feeling more and more relief as Steve ate his fill and then some.

When Steve eventually stopped accepting food, Bucky relaxed and took the used plates to the sink, leaving them there for later.

“So what’s the plan now, huh Stevie? Gonna take a break, go back to drawing-?” Bucky started to ask but cut himself off as he turned back to the main room.

Steve’s head was titled back, eyes closed in exhaustion. He was out like a light, his whole body limp and still. Finally calm.

Bucky leaned his body against the kitchen island and breathed shakily, gripping the edge for support.

Steve stopped. Christ Almighty, he finally stopped.

He’d been _so scared_ watching Steve kill himself like that. Scared he’d just keep on painting, and what then? What if he never stopped? Would they drug him again? Put him under regularly? Tie him down and force-feed him?

Bucky couldn’t bear the thought of any of that, it was too much like when he was- _when he’d been_ …

_Ready to comply._

But the alternative to that was letting Steve work himself to death, and what an impossible choice that was.

He gasped, realizing he’d been holding his breath as his thoughts spun over what might’ve been, the terrible _what ifs_. The sharp relief had him shaking, struggling to take breath as the dread he’d been struggling with came to a head. He bent over the counter and hid his face in his arms, muffling sobs in his sleeves because he wouldn’t wake Steve on his life.

He stood there, shaking and gasping into his arms, until he heard a scuffing noise down the hall- Kevin, waking for his shift. Bucky lifted his head and saw the time read five-fifty- nearly an hour had passed with him standing there, trying to pull himself back together.

He hadn’t had a breakdown like that in over a year, and wasn’t that a sobering thought?

_It’s alright, you’re safe. I’m here for you._

Steve’s words echoed, how he used to comfort Bucky after a panic attack or nightmare or hard day or week or month. How he’d be there after therapy as an oasis of familiarity when Bucky had bared something raw to the therapist.

Steve had been so patient, always there to comfort and support, or give him space when he needed. He’d been a cornerstone in Bucky’s long recovery, which was still ongoing in some ways.

_I’ll always be there for you, ‘til the end of the line._

Where was he now? Where was Steve when Bucky needed him, because he sure as fuck wasn’t here.

The thought instantly froze him from the inside out, and he gripped the edge of the counter harder. He paid no mind to the cracking granite under his metal arm.

Where had that come from? Where had that thought come from?

Kevin came out then, still a little bleary from the early morning, but a kind smile nonetheless. Bucky schooled his features and put a finger to his lips, then pointed to Steve’s sleeping form on the couch. Kevin made a pleasantly surprised face.

“Are you okay to watch him?” Bucky asked quietly.

“Yeah, I’m good” Kevin answered in an equally hushed tone.

Bucky nodded once before going straight to one of their empty guest rooms, and he did something else that he hadn’t done in over a year: he crawled into an empty closet and closed the door, hiding away in the small space.

_It’s alright, you’re safe. I’m here for you._

* * *

> Harriman Research Team  
>  Meeting Minutes
> 
> Present
> 
> Dr. Sun Hu  
>  Dr. Mark Harrison  
>  Dr. Mike Sabos  
>  Dr. Aubrey Fletcher  
>  Dr. Israa al-Quadri  
>  Dr. Sam Guo
> 
> Approval of Agenda
> 
> Emergency meeting, no agenda set.
> 
> New Business
> 
> Meeting called by Dr. Sabos over new discovery with organism #014 (Novis tripneustes spinae; Urchin) involving lab accident wherein human blood (Dr. Sabos’) contaminated enclosure and was exposed to Subjects NTS #0058-0064. Contaminant later resulted in new discovery of organism processes during genome analysis.
> 
> Discovery was discussed and debated in extensive detail.
> 
> By majority decision, Oversight Council will be informed of discovery and urged to subpoena Captain Steven Rogers for blood sample. Team resources will be diverted to further study new discovery.
> 
> By majority decision, Dr. Sabos is no longer to perform studies unsupervised.

Excerpt from the Meeting Minutes of the Harriman Research Team

  
(Painting by S. G. Rogers)


	14. Chapter 14

_Species 019  
_ _Official name: Novis coleopt plateromirum  
_ _Laymen name: Puffer Beetle_

_The puffer beetle is categorized in the same order as Earth’s Coleoptera (beetle), however, it does not resemble any singular family._

_The beetle appears visually closer to that of the trilobite’s anatomy. They have a flattened, black body with overlapping and spiked-tipped scales starting from the Head and layering down to the Abdomen. The body is patterned with vibrant red spots and highlights. The Thorax and Abdomen contain both segmented appendages for movement, as well as long and flattened grips to better grasp vertical surfaces without falling. Adults can reach up to 40cm long._

_Lending to its name, the puffer beetle possesses two inflatable sacs on either side of its body. The sacs are bright red in colour and remain deflated and protected underneath the layered scales. These sacs are commonly inflated in reaction to threats, using an orifice located on the underside of the Thorax to intake air. Individuals have been noted to inflate these sacs for no reason however, and it is not uncommon to see a puffer beetle fully inflated while unbothered._

_We have deemed the puffer beetle to pose minimal threat to both the environment and life on Earth._

-Excerpt from page 42 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

“How did he _do_ this?” Bucky asked aloud, starring down at his half-empty beer bottle.

“Hmm? Do what?” Sam asked from the chair beside him.

They were in the tower’s indoor courtyard, surrounded by meticulously maintained plants and looking out from the floor-to-ceiling window over the city. The decadence of the place was offset by the cheap folding chairs Sam had brought for them to sit in, along with the generic beer they were drinking without tasting.

It was supposed to be one of the many break rooms for employees to use, but at this late of an hour there was nobody here- nobody except for the damn peacock that kept crying every ten minutes. If he’d known there’d be a screaming bird in here, he wouldn’t have suggested this place to Sam. He’d think that Tony would’ve mentioned it, which… _hmm_.

Actually, now that he thought of it, Bucky realized Tony probably wasn’t aware he _had_ a peacock.

“Bucky?” Sam asked when he didn’t answer.

He picked at the bottle’s label. After Steve finished his painting, Bucky had spent most of the day in a closet, and he’d only come out when Kevin texted fourteen hours later that Steve had finally woken up. He’d come out to find Steve scarfing down the meal Kevin had brought him.

Steve polished off three more servings and downed another two smoothies, then stood and went to the washroom, returning to his seat when he was done. He sat back with a tired sigh and stared at the wall, his eyes tracing the details of the painting.

They quickly learned this was to be new norm. Steve was back to using the washroom and going to bed on his own, passively accepting whatever food and drink were given to him. He even let Bucky goad him into the shower every other day.

It was just like before, only now, rather than drawing, he was sitting on the couch and staring at his painting. There was a sharp drop in mobility, and they had to bring a treadmill into the apartment just to get him more active.

Bucky still went to bed with him, but it felt different now. Steve had been on a precipice and Bucky couldn’t unwind from it, sleeping maybe a few hours if that.

When being near Steve became too much, he’d go to the empty guest room’s closet. Sometimes he’d be in there for hours. He went on like that for two whole weeks, his inability to face the world becoming worse.

If that wasn’t a sign he needed to talk to someone, he didn’t know what was. Therapy wasn’t something he could do right now, and Sam was about as close as he could get, shitty as that was to do to his friend. But Bucky knew his own patterns, and he knew he had to stop this downward spiral.

Knowing didn’t make it any easier though, and it had taken a whole hour of sitting with Sam to work up to this.

“How’d Steve do it, with me?”

Sam lowered his bottle onto his thigh. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific”

“When he was dealing with me at my worst, how did he- I don’t know, how did he cope?” Bucky took another breath and forced the rest out, “Because I’m not. I’m telling you right now Sam, I’m not. I see him every day sitting there but not _being_ there, and it’s like I’m fucking drowning”

He raised his bottled then, taking a large gulp to stop himself from saying more. Sam let out a breath, his chair creaking as he shifted. Bucky lowered the bottle to his lap and fiddled with it. He kept his eyes on the label and slowly started to peel the corner, waiting for Sam’s answer.

“That’s- okay, that’s. A lot” Sam started. “So first I wanna say thank you for telling me, I know that was a really difficult thing for you to do, and I appreciate that-” Bucky scoffed, “-hey, no, I’m serious, it’s fucking hard to be vulnerable, so good on you. That took balls”

Bucky kept his eyes on the bottle, frowning.

“And to answer your question… this. This is what Steve did. He took about as long as you to finally fucking talk to me about it too”

That got Bucky looking up.

“Yeah, we’d go out for a coffee or walk or something and he’d be all turned around. Not just you, but Carter too, and, shit, I guess maybe that’s kinda closer to what this is. It’s hard, seeing someone you love hurt, or not be all there, and you ain’t weak for being affected by it”

Sam took another swig of his beer, looking back out into the city night, leaving Bucky to think on what he’d said.

“Yeah, I think Peggy’s more… relatable, to this. What Steve’s got is… it’s different, from what I had going on”

Sam snorted, “You’re damn right about that. I would’ve loved it if you spent your day colouring instead of trying to stab me”

“ _Once._ I tried _once,_ and you shouldn’t have snuck up on me”

“Man, I just woke up, I didn’t even know you were _there_. Besides, you broke into _my_ house, and a man is entitled to walk around as quiet as he likes in his own home”

“Steve stayed with you that night, you should’ve known I’d be there at some point”

“Mmhmm, yeah, completely my fault” Sam hummed. Bucky sipped his beer.

They lapsed into silence, watching the city below. The peacock cried out again. Steve probably would’ve enjoyed trying to draw the awful thing.

“You ever wonder why Steve was at my place that night?” Sam asked after finishing his beer, reaching into the cooler for another.

Bucky shrugged, thinking back on that night. “I asked him to give me space, and he left me the whole apartment for the night”

“Yeah, but why’d he come to my place?”

“Where else would he go?”

Sam popped the top off his drink, then waved his hand around the room. “Here, maybe? You know my place is a whole hour away from yours with traffic? The tower’s half that, and actually has a bed. So why’d he make the trip for a lumpy couch?”

“… Because you were there?”

Sam tilted his bottle at Bucky and nodded, “Because _I_ was there. He didn’t just come for a place to crash, he’d dump all his shit on me too. Talked about you for _hours_ ”

Bucky frowned. “Shit, Sam, I’m sorry I made Steve-”

“Nah nah, don’t start up with that” Sam cut him off, “It was a damn honour to help his dumbass work through that. My point is, he was going though the same thing as you, and he dealt with it by talking. By getting help”

Bucky shot a look to Sam. “I _am_ getting help. I’ve got _three_ professionals working shifts ‘round the clock when I need ‘em. I’m out here with you because Angela’s back there keeping an eye on Steve, and he ain’t exactly a handful”

“So? Does it make it hurt any less? Carter had a care staff watching her too, didn’t make him feel any less hurt” Sam said, shifting in his chair. “Pain drains you man, you get tired from it”

“I’m _fine_ ” Bucky bristled.

“ _Hey_ , don’t do that” Sam pointed at Bucky accusingly. “You just said you’re drowning, don’t hide that shit now. Pain ain’t a weakness. I’m not gonna put you down for it. And you wanna know something?” Sam leaned it, “It hurts me too, seeing Steve like that. It hurts all of us”

Bucky turned the bottle around in his hands, shoulders sagging. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t Steve’s only friend.“Sorry, I know you guys are doing your best…”

“You are too. More than any of us actually”

Bucky looked at Sam dubiously. Sam met him with a disbelieving look, like he couldn’t believe Bucky had missed something so obvious.

“Bucky, I can’t be around Steve more than _six_ _hours_ , and that’s a record. It’s _hard_ , and it’s painful, and I _hate_ that I’m too weak to spend more time around him. Have you noticed Nat won’t be alone with him? Same with Clint. Tony can’t even hit ten minutes in the same room, and he won’t look at Steve the entire time he’s there. Do you know how strong you are for being there for him _every day?_ ”

Bucky looked away, uncomfortable. Where else would he be if not with Steve? _‘_ _Til the end of the line_ wasn’t just a throwaway saying, and not even the growing ache in his heart could get him to leave. Sticking around Steve’s side was second nature to him, like breathing. It wasn’t as big as Sam made it out to be.

Was it?

“Hey, look at me” Bucky slowly turned to face Sam, “You’re handling this _way_ better than you know, but the pain you’re feeling is real. Now if you wanna talk about it, I’m here. Natasha’s here. Clint’s here. Tony’s here, in his weird way. You’ve got a your therapist too, don’t count them out. And you’ve got three care workers to help. So what you’re doing here? That’s helping”

“Is it? ‘Cause it feels like all I’m doing is going back and forth with you guys and Steve. Like the shit builds up and then I come out here to dump it on you, then it’s right back ‘round again”

“You gotta give yourself breaks from that shit, yeah? Let yourself air out a little, connect with other people, live your life”

_Live your life_. What life?

“But how am I supposed to live my life without _him?_ ” Bucky said quietly, turning back to his bottle.

“You just do. One day and then the next”

One day and then the next. And how many days was that?

The peacock stepped out from around one of the bushes and cried, its tail fanned open. Bucky watched it slowly make its way across the room. He though again of how Steve probably would’ve liked to have drawn it.

* * *

Bucky wanted to crawl back into a closet, or maybe a vent shaft. Hell, he’d slide under the table if he thought he could get away with it. Anything to not deal with those. God. Damn. Vultures.

“This is bullshit” Sam said, beating Bucky to the punch.

Maria grimaced sympathetically. “It’s court-ordered, we can’t fight them on this”

“Like hell we can’t”

“ _We can’t_ ” Tony said from behind his hands, which were covering his face as he tried his best to rub the sleep away. “I spoke with our lawyers, and we can’t stop it. This comes from the World Council, and unless you wanna be international fugitives _again…_ ” he trailed off, letting them fill in the rest.

“On the bright side, they gave us enough leniency to choose how we want to deliver the samples” Maria tried to add positively.

“How generous of them” Natasha drawled.

Bucky grit his teeth. Oh, he hated this.

“What are our options?” he asked.

Maria flipped to a different page of her notes. “We can bring Steve to the facility to take samples there-”

“No” Steve wasn’t going within ten miles of that place.

“-we can collect the samples here and send them over-”

“Risks getting them stolen in transport” Natasha pointed out.

“-or we can have them come here and do their experiments in the tower”

“And bring about a hundred alien bugs into a populated city” Tony muttered.

Bucky sighed. None of these were good.

“… I guess send the samples? We can transport them ourselves” Clint suggested, leaning back in his chair. Five set of eyes turned to him. Clint raised his eyebrows, motioning to the rest of them “Unless anyone has a better idea?”

There was a resounding silence.

Maria marked something in her notes. “I’ll make the arrangement”

* * *

> OPERATION ORDER #742000034 - Operation Pandora
> 
> SITUATION
> 
> a. Intel confirmed. Action taken by UN Oversight Committee for Occupied Zone Research to subpoena CPT S. G. Rogers (alias, Captain America) for biological samples. Samples will be delivered under heavy guard. Confirmed two hostile escorts: S. T. Wilson (alias, Falcon) and C. Barton (alias, Hawkeye).
> 
> b. CPT S. G. Rogers remains vulnerable and compromised. Under protective guard, current units unable to acquire. Current power of attorney held by SGT J. B. Barnes (alias, Winter Soldier, former HYDRA asset). Confirmed no other listed next-of-kin; should Winter Soldier become deceased, CPT Rogers is to become a legal ward of the state. Current state assets would allow for increased opportunity of acquisition.
> 
> MISSION
> 
> a. PRIORITY, acquire biological samples of CPT S. G. Rogers. SECONDARY, Eliminate Falcon and Hawkeye. If acquisition failed, destroy samples if possible.
> 
> b. PRIORITY, eliminate Winter Soldier. Acquire proof of death if possible.
> 
> EXECUTION
> 
> a. Dispatch Strike Team Eta and Strike Team Lambda. Intercept transport and recover biological samples. Authorized full weapon access. Authorized full vehicle access.
> 
> b. Activate LMD-AB001 asset. Eliminate target: Winter Soldier. All hostile subroutines approved.

Excerpt of Order Dispatch for Operation Pandora, HYDRA Subdivision B7

  
(Image of Puffer Beetle, sac deflated, taken by discovery team)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those interested, the image at the end of this chapter is a slight alter of the female Platerodrilus, or Trilobite Beetle. They're some funky looking beetles, so much so that I took inspiration for this particular alien bug.
> 
> Fun fact: unlike the fictional Puffer Beetle, the real Trilobite Beetle is only about the size of your thumb, and only the females look like this; the males are even smaller and look like normal beetles.


	15. Chapter 15

_Species 026  
_ _Official name: Novis macrocheira mandusirpe  
_ _Laymen name: Crane Spider_

_The crane spider is difficult to categorize, biologically resembling both the Asteroidea (starfish family) and Crustacea (crustacean family), though it can be agreed that it is an invertebrate. It can be identified by its four large appendages that measure up to four metres long, protruding symmetrically from the flat, circular, and beige in colour Body. Though they appear as legs, they are actually distended feeders, each end containing a small, four-toothed mouth._

_The crane spider has no mobility and depends on its four extended mouths to feed on any plant it can reach. As the organism grows, it extends its feeding range, until it reaches full growth and clears away all plants in a 3-4 metre radius._

_Once it clears away all plants, it enters a state of starvation, triggering asexual reproduction. Each feeding appendage stretches as far as it can, then lays a single eggs as the organism dies. The eggs take between 9-16 days to hatch, leaving enough time for new plant growth to begin in the cleared area. Once the surviving eggs hatch, they begin the process again, clearing away the plant life in a slowly increasing radius._

_Crane spiders are easily susceptible to predation and are considered rare, with mature adults difficult to find._

_We have deemed the crane spider a minimal threat to life on Earth. It is recommended that individuals be left alone as they aid in preventing the spread of invasive plant life from the Occupied Zone._

-Excerpt from page 68 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

“-and that’s the last of it” Dr. Cho said as she finished drawing Steve’s blood.

Mouth swabs, urine collection, and now blood collection. Biopsy was done earlier in the day. All of it sealed and packed for transport. Copies of old scans plus today’s newest scans were collected on an external, secure hard-drive to go along with the samples.

Dr. Cho put away her supplies, having carted them up to their floor. While they’d sedated Steve for the biopsy and scans, she thought it was a bit of an extreme measure for the fluid collections and had offered to come do them in their apartment.

“Thanks Doc” Bucky grit out. It was no secret he didn’t like any of this, but it wasn’t her fault it was happening, and he tried not to take it out on the one doctor he could tolerate.

“Of course” she smiled, snapping her case shut. “Don’t hesitate to call if you have any concerns”

He nodded, seeing her out with a few more pleasantries and promises of updates.

He returned and collapsed back on the couch next to Steve, exhaling loudly. “I hate this. I honest-to-God hate this, you know that?” Bucky turned to Steve. “You’d hate this too”

No response. Bucky looked to the wall, the geometric pattern long since burned in the back of his eyes. “You’d hate this too” he repeated with finality.

The two of them sat there, staring at the wall. Bucky’s phone went off, notifying him that Clint, Sam, and their last-minute addition of Tony had left with the quinjet on their way to deliver the samples.

From the hall came the light padding of Angela’s socked feet.

“Hey, uh, I’m gonna make Steve some sandwiches, what kind would you like?” Angela asked as she entered the kitchen.

“Whatever’s easiest. Need any help?” he asked.

“Nah, I got it” she called as she pulled out the ingredients for sandwiches. The sound of her preparations filled the room.

“So, I was thinking,” Angela started, “that maybe we could see about, like, getting Steve to walk around some more? Like outside for fresh air, or maybe that big garden room? The treadmill isn’t really a good replacement for an actual walk, and- and I know he won’t leave the room for more than ten minutes, but. Um. What if we like, took a picture. Like a _really_ high-quality picture that he can walk around with?”

Bucky turned around in his seat, regarding Angela. She had her back turned, chopping something on the cutting board.

He considered what she said. Would that work? Was it the physical painting Steve needed to stare at, or would a copy be enough? He looked back at the gaudy pattern, thinking it over.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to-”

His pocket blared with an emergency alert, jostling him and cutting off his words. He quickly pulled out his phone and read the message, swearing. The transport had been attacked. It was being dealt with, but the situation was still volatile, and they may need backup if things escalated.

“What is it?” Angela asked.

“A Hydra attack, I gotta go on standby if it gets worse-”

Hydra’s Winter Soldier had been a cold, empty machine that they’d crammed far too much skill into. Languages, firearms, knives, hand-to-hand, explosives, piloting. He’d been disciplined to be vigilant, unflinching in any situation. No pain, no fear, no mercy. He’d been deadly.

Bucky’s Winter Soldier was less brutal, more compassionate, and- most important- a goddamn person again. He was all of that and more, and still just as deadly- which was what let him feel the shift in the air, something indiscernible but cold suddenly in the room.

He pivoted off the couch at the last second, dodging the knife thrown at his back.

He rolled and came up in a crouch, metal arm up to shield from the second and third knife that clattered to the floor. The fourth he caught in his other hand, flipped and held defensively.

Angela had another knife in her grip, the last from the knife rack. Bucky managed to get up on his feet just as she hurdled over the kitchen island towards him.

* * *

_God is dead._

_Demon seed._

The dining table broke in two as Bucky and the woman fell on it. She was attacking viciously with her, her… sharp. The sharp, it was the sharp.

Whatever the word for it, the screeching of it against Bucky’s not-arm hit his ears in harsh bursts.

_God is dead._

_Demon seed._

He was turning it. He’d been turning it for days and days and _days_ , like, like a square. Those squares, with the smaller squares and the colours. The colours were mixed, like, like-

_Demon seed._

-and he was turning them. What was that square called? He knew the word, he _knew_ it, somewhere in the nest of things. The square, the, the… the _puzzle square_. Tony had one, and he’d seen Bruce make all the colours match once. He’d spun the square until each side was a single colour. That’s what Steve was trying to do with the text.

He’d been staring at the text for days. If he had to make a comparison, he’d say he had maybe two sides done out of six. If he had more days he could get it all done- but he _didn’t_ have more days because _Bucky was on the floor_ and _Bucky was bleeding_ and the woman had a sharp in her chest but she _wasn’t stopping_.

_Demon seed._

Brute force. He’d been taking his time but he had to brute force it now. There was pressure in his head that would’ve been a headache if pain weren’t made heresy.

Glass shattered and wood cracked as they tumbled through the apartment, breaking furniture. Bucky slammed her against the, the thing, as she kicked Bucky into a… into furniture.

He didn’t have _time_ to think of the right words.

He had to turn the Solution and force it. He was made clergy and he’d been studying the Holy Scripture. He had the Solution in his sights and he had to turn it faster, force it. Force it.

_Demon seed._

Bucky growled as he kicked the woman away. She slammed into the wall, breaking through it and ruining part of the text. That was fine, he had it in the nest, and he was nearly there anyway. One more side of the square to solve, the text was aligning with sharp clicks and starbursts behind his eyes as he forced it to fit.

_Demon se̶̯̣̳͕͂̈́̑͋͊̔̐͐͟e d._

Nearly there.

_Dȩ̠͔̖̣̃̈͒̄̽͌̚͟ͅm̷̨̺̮̝͎̣͙̭͉͎̒̿͛͐͊̂͒̕͝on seẽ̡̲̫̝̣̪̳͔̺̀͊̚͘͜d._

_Dem̷̺̹̩̤̜̣͕̊͒̄͐̓̍̚͝͝ͅo̸͇̻̣̖̘̭̣̩̩̍̊̐̂̉͜n̷̡̨͍͚͍͛̓́͗͐͘͟ͅ s eed._

Almost.

_Ḑ̸̧̻̳̱̖̼͚͒̈̐̑͑͘̕͝ȩ̸̼͍̜̠̪̠̺̬̞͆̋̄̽̓̍̈́͂mo̶̢̥̳̠̙̮̤͚͉̓͐̈͆͒̋̌n̸̹̯̤̪͚̳̾̒͗̃̔̽̊ s̠͔͍͔̰̙̠̩̥̿͂̽͂̃̐̕͝é̷̯̙̭͊̽͌̿͢͢ȇ̛͈͚̹̯̼͓͍̅̔̍̈́͆͘͡d._

.̷̡͈̫͚̫̑̒̌͡͡

_D̷̙̺͚͇͚͉̒͛͗̊͆̚͟e̮̲̺͖͎͋̄̓͐̚m̴̜͚̼̬̟̪͓̩̄͗̾̃̚o̓ ̞̪͉͖͇̞͋̇̌̂̽̿͞n̵̛͈͍̩̤͓͎̍̈́̿͞ s̴͍͈̰̠̞̆̂͞ę̘̹̮̰̖͉̆̏͐̔̾̌͘̕ ȅ̲͎͖̤̺̰͎̤̥̂́̋̂d̶̢̗̳̙̫̲̙͉̎́̒͑͌̿̚͜͡_

_D̵̛͕͉͚̺̱̭͒͆͂̓͟͞ĕ̵̟̭̥̫̠̓̈́͑̈́͐̕̕ m̶̻̗̲͕̙̺̘͛̓͆͊͂͋͡ö̺͎̹̤̳̦̳̬̏̀̉̿̉̕͠n͇̩͉͇͈͈͍̰͖͋͒̒͌͘ s̸̡̤̺̱̟̑̐̋̍̑̇̕̕͟ȩ̵̫̫͖͒͋̀͑̃̌͜ ḛ̰̗̺̝̉͑͆͆̓͐̊͢͠ḑ̡̡͇̖͉̥́̑̾̿̿̀̕͠͠͞_

;̷͍͓̗̹͚̣͐͑̒̌͜͢͡

-̸̧̛̹̠̙͈̮͍̗̦̑̉͋̕͞

-̛̣̘̗̙͂̅̔̾̔́͜͞

^̴̻̯̼̪̮̀͗̒̔͒͠

-̨̛̙͔͖̭̺̲͚͙͗̎̈́͝͡

.̲̳͙̣̤͉̘̯̲̄͐̅͌͟͝

*̴̤͇̖͓̠͍̠̅̈́͐̕͢͞ ~̴̨̤̬͈̯̩̮̹̉̅̃̀̽͒͡

** Seed **

Steve opened his eyes and gasped, feeling the text align into place correctly. He had it.

He had Solution.

* * *

Bucky grunted as he slammed into the wall, Angela lunging at him with the knife she’d pulled out of her chest.

The knife with no blood on it.

_Fuck._

He was keeping the fight as far from Steve as he could, but that was easier said than done. Angela was relentless and fast, and their fight took them all over the room.

She came at him with the blade again, and he caught her wrist on the upswing, following through the movement to wrench her shoulder inhumanly hard and sending the knife flying away.

On a normal person that’s would’ve been a devastating dislocation, but he was finding Angela wasn’t quite normal.

Case in point, her shoulder tore open at the seam with small sparks crackling out of the tear. He kicked her in the chest and sent her flying across the room. She landed in a crouch, then stood and rolled her shoulders, the tear closing before his eyes. The only proof of it ever happening was the rip in her shirt.

Her face had gone impassive and cold, and her movements had become far too precise. An android, maybe? Bucky hadn’t thought those existed- he’d assumed they were another false ideal of the future, like flying cars.

He was wrong, apparently.

For as many times as he’d been cut, he’d gotten her twice as much and ten times worse, but she was hardly showing it. At most he’d ruined her clothes.

There was no way their fight hadn’t triggered Jarvis’ emergency protocols. Surely those hadn’t been disabled when Tony cut off the monitoring software, right?

Help would come, he assured himself. He just had to fend her off until then.

He ran at her and knocked her down, falling with her to straddle her chest. The plates in his arm whirred and shifted as he braced it, then he brought his fist down on her face once, twice, three times, with enough force to shatter concrete.

Her skull caved in with each hit, dented and bloodless as the skin split open. Her one eye cracked down the middle.

She grabbed his shin and twisted, forcing him to roll off to avoid dislocating his knee. He dragged himself back just as her heel came down where his head had been, leaving deep cracks in the hardwood floor.

He quickly scurried backwards until he hit the wall and leveraged himself up, grunting through his bruised ribs and muscles. Her punches were leaving more than just surface damage.

Across the room Angela stood as well, and her face filled out where he’d dented it, popping back into place with jilted speed, the skin re-knitting over metal until there was no evidence he’d hit her. He barred his teeth, arms up and ready for more.

She ran at him full-tilt, catching him in a tackle. They tumbled down, and he turned it into a grapple as they hit the floor. He had her body against his, chest-to-back as he wrapped his legs around her torso and kept his weight tilted back, keeping her grounded and unable to use her legs against him.

He hissed as she grabbed a handful of his loose hair and _yanked_ , pulling a chunk out in her fist. At the same time, she brought her head back in a headbutt, catching him in the brow and splitting the skin there, blood leaking into his eye.

She struggled in his grip, sending harsh elbow jabs into his already smarting ribs, definitely cracking one of them.

There was a clattering noise to their right, and both their heads turned to see one of the knives that had been embedded in the wall fall to the floor, barely two feet away.

Bucky swore, trying to grab both her arms into a secure hold, but she threw her whole weight into a lunge. She got hold of the knife.

She managed to spin the blade around in her palm and jab backwards. It cut through the air a hairsbreadth from his cheek, stabbing into the floor with a sharp clack. He was forced to tuck his head into her back as she repeated the move, hitting floor again and again. She drove it relentlessly trying to get a good angle at his head, at one point cutting into his ear.

He had to act fast before she got a hit in. He shifted and managed to wrap his metal arm around her elbow, taking another headbutt to the face in exchange for wrenching the knife out of her grip, only for her other hand to snap up and grab the handle before it could even hit the floor.

Knife in-hand, she swung her whole arm downwards to his thigh. There was no dodging that, and he braced himself for the pain, already calculating the shift in grip he’d need to compensate for the wound, when Steve’s foot came down to pin her arm to the floor before the hit could land.

Steve bent and grabbed her wrist in both hands, leveraging a foot on her rib cage and _pulling_. There was a harsh grinding and snapping noise as wires and metal joints were rent from the socket, and then her arm was _off_ , tossed across the room.

Bucky didn’t hesitate, and he let go of her arm to put her in a choke hold, metal arm under her chin. He grunted as he pushed up and _twist_ _ed_ , bearing down with his legs to leverage enough force to _get her head off_.

Her neck started to crackle with the sound of straining servos and pulled wiring, and she only caught him once with a fist to the knee before Steve had that arm too, twisting it off without any fanfare. Her legs kicked out as Bucky got her head wrenched nearly backwards, until it finally came off with a sharp _snap!_

She went limp, and Bucky tossed her head away, shoving aside the still-sparking corpse from his body. His arms fell to the side and his legs splayed out, knee throbbing where she’d struck it. Blood still blinded his one eye, and his whole body ached with cuts and heavy bruises.

He looked up, panting and shaking with adrenaline. Steve stood over him with a- with a _concerned look_. His face was actually _expressive_. Bucky was still processing the fact that Steve had _moved off the couch_.

“… Steve?” he choked out, hope and dread and pain lacing through him.

Steve crouched down, worry etched in his face.

“Bucky? Are you alive?”

  
(Sample of work by S. G. Rogers)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had few people commenting on the funky text from last chapter, so for those of you interested, I generated the text using the Zalgo Text generator: https://www.zalgotextgenerator.com/

_Species 006  
_ _Official name: Novis lophyra venandis  
_ _Laymen name: Hunter Beetle_

_The hunter beetle is similar to the Coleoptera order of the Carabidae family (ground beetle). It can be identified by the long, slender legs, pointed and curved mandibles, and large, bulbous eyes. The beetle is a bright yellow in colouring as well, making it easy to spot. Beetles can range from 10-35cm in lengths, and their long legs give them a height ranging from 12-20cm._

_The beetle is named for its aggressive hunting behaviour, wherein it will chase and dismember other organisms with its mandibles, sometimes grouping together in packs to take down larger prey. The beetles exclusively attack Earth-native organisms, and are often the main cause of death for small mammals and birds in the Occupied Zone who do not succumb to the asphyxiant atmosphere._

_Of note, the beetles are herbivores, making their hunting behaviour particularly puzzling. After killing an Earth-native organism, the beetle leaves them where they are killed to be eaten by other scavengers._

_More than 15 beetles attacking may be deadly to a healthy human adult. As they can reach speeds of up to 10 km/h (comparatively, the average human running speed is 12 km/h), it is recommended that anyone coming in contact with these beetles flee immediately if they are unable to kill them._

_We have deemed the hunter beetle to pose moderate threat to life on Earth due to their aggressive nature, however, none have shown interest in wandering beyond a 2,000 km radius of the Seed, allowing for a 5,500 km buffer between their territory and the border. They are not expected to spread beyond the Occupied Zone._

-Excerpt from page 16 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

“Is Bucky alive?”

“Yes, Steve” Dr. Cho answered, shining a penlight in his eye.

“Is Bucky _alive_ ” Steve asked again, frustrated.

“Steve, I’m sitting right here” Bucky said from his seat across from the examination table. He had a nurse patching his cuts while he waited for Dr. Cho to finish her checkup.

Steve shot Bucky a withering look. “I know, but are you _alive?_ ”

“I can take his pulse, if that would help?” the nurse offered, smiling patiently.

Steve made an affronted noise. “No, I know he’s alive, but is he- is he-” Steve huffed, hands motioning in Bucky’s direction, “- is he running?”

Bucky looked to Dr. Cho to gauge her reaction of that. After taking care of the Angela robot, Steve had practically dragged Bucky to the medical floor. Bucky had given Jarvis a quick summary on the way down while trying not to worry too much how Steve kept asking if he was alive.

“Are you asking if he’s okay?” the nurse asked unsurely.

“ _Yes_ ” Steve said, visibly relieved.

Steve was asking if Bucky was-? Of all the _stupid_ , half-brained _idiotic_ things… He ought to strangle Steve is what he should do, asking if _Bucky was okay_ like Steve hadn’t been brain-dead for four months.

“Hey don’t worry about me, it’s barely a scratch” Bucky said instead, showing off the cuts that the nurse hadn’t gotten to yet. Despite the bloody patches that had soaked his shirt, Bucky was fine. The cuts were shallow and had already stopped bleeding. He was keeping quiet about his ribs, but those would be healed in a little over a week.

Steve looked unconvinced, but he didn’t get the chance to argue once Dr. Cho started her questioning. Bucky was itching to hear how Steve was doing, how he was suddenly _talking_ and _aware_.

“Steve can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

“I’m running”

“No pain anywhere? No soreness? Any discomfort at all?”

“No, pain is heresy”

Dr. Cho paused, puzzling at his words. “Can you be more descriptive? I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean by _‘pain is heresy’_ ”

“Pain is heresy” Steve said, then frowned. “Pain is _heresy_ ” he said again, an annoyed look on his face. “I don’t mean _heresy_ , but it’s the word. I can’t… I can’t _say_ another word” Steve tried to explain.

Dr. Cho nodded. “Do you think you could try explaining it in a roundabout way? Would it be easier if you wrote it down?”

Steve nodded, and she handed him a second clipboard with a blank paper and pen. Steve took them, and Bucky suppressed a frown when Steve started making long strokes on the paper, doing the one thing Bucky had grown to resent these past few months.

When he finished, Steve flipped the board around, and of course, _of course_ it was another drawing of those _shapes_. A sketch of them this time, the spaces only roughly shaded and the lines a little warped without the hours spent making them _just so_.

“Pain is heresy” Steve said again, waiting for Dr. Cho to understand.

She calmly took the board out of his hands. “Okay. I’m going to ask you some questions to test your mental capacity, is that alright?”

Steve made a noise of agreement, unfazed by the sudden change in subject.

“Can you tell me your name, where you are, and the date?”

“Steven Grant Rogers” he said, then paused, thinking. He gestured his hands inarticulately, like he was trying to form something. “We’re in the, tall. The tall… nest. I know _where_ , but… you know?”

Dr. Cho only nodded, indicating for him to go on.

“The day is…” he blew out a breath, brow furrowing. “I don’t… there was sleep, and then I wasn’t watching”

Dr. Cho continued unfazed. “And can you tell me what happened? Are you aware of recent events?”

“Yeah, yeah” Steve nodded, rubbing his hands over his thighs. “We were in the Garden, and the Gardener brought Solution, and… and pain” he stopped again, thinking. “I was… red,” he continued, indicating his face and chest, “and… gone” then he mimed chopping where his arm had been detached. Bucky winced at the gestures.

“Then there was the, uh…” he hesitated, and they waited patiently for him to speak. “I was in the… doctor nest”

“The hospital?”

Steve nodded. “The hospital for… less days. Then I came here. I’ve been here for… more days” Steve’s face scrunched, like his speech was paining him.

“And do you remember your time here in the tower?”

“Yes? I know everything… moved,” he waved around himself, “but I couldn’t see after the Solution”

“Can you be more descriptive?”

Steve made a pained face. “I was… I know everything moved. I was sleeping when I was awake, it…” Steve let out a breath. “I was turning Solution, I couldn’t- I couldn’t” Steve made a frustrated noise and ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s okay Steve, take your time”

“No, I can’t, I _can’t-_ ” Steve snapped his mouth shut, irritation written on his face. “I know I’m not talking right” he finally said, his cheeks lightly flushed.

“That’s okay. Your difficulty speaking is due to a brain growth in your language centre. We did a full workup of your condition this morning, I can go over it with you and explain”

Steve waved her off, frowning. “No, I’m not meant to know”

Now that _did_ throw the doctor, and she paused before asking “… Are you sure?”

“Yeah”

“I really think it would be helpful for you to be informed-”

“Doc,” Steve interrupted, “I know I’m enough-” he stopped, grimacing. “I know _how I am,_ enough” he clarified. If that could even be called a clearer statement.

“Alright… well, if you change your mind, let me know. For now I’d like to move on to do an extensive neurological exam”

“Can Bucky stay?”

“I ain’t going anywhere” Bucky said, smiling weakly. Like hell he’d leave Steve’s side.

* * *

Three hours. Dr. Cho kept kept Steve for three hours, running scans, testing his hearing and sight, checking his reflexes. She had him do tests where he followed an instruction, identified pictures, repeated words, read sentences off cards. It started to feel like an interrogation with how much she hounded him, except the questions were laughably easy, like:

“Are we at a playground?” “No”

“Are we in Avenger’s Tower?” “Yes”

“Are we in a library?” “No”

“Are baby’s watched by babysitters?” “Yes”

“Are doctors treated by patients?” “No”

Steve did fine with most of them, but it was obvious where his real trouble lay.

“Can you name this animal?” Dr. Cho asked, holding up the image of a cartoon horse.

Steve opened his mouth to say, but no sound came out as he hesitated. “The fast… running. It carries us” he said, gesticulating with his hands as he searched for the right words.

It went on like that with each image, and often Bucky or Dr. Cho would have to reassure Steve when he became too frustrated. Steve at least _knew_ what he wanted to say, his filler words made that clear, but he just couldn’t get it. Of the fifteen images, Steve managed to name two, correctly saying _tree_ and _boy_.

She also had him write, and while he could print whatever phrase Dr. Cho asked him to, when he was asked to come up with his own sentence he only drew shapes. She even asked him to write _God is dead_ and _Demon seed_ , but those too came out as more patterns.

“Your comprehension looks completely fine, and I think it’s only your word recall that’s being affected as well as your written communication, but we’ll need to do a proper battery of testing to get a full idea of your limitations. You don’t have any other neurological difficulties with movement or senses, though I’m noticing you’re having some pain indifference. Is that what you mean when you say pain is heresy?”

Steve nodded. “Pain was made heresy”

“So you’re aware that you’re feeling limited or no pain at all when you should be, correct?”

“Yes”

“Sorry, what?” Bucky asked, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, it’s…” Steve scratched the back of his head, “it’s heresy. Pain is heresy” His brow furrowed as he tried to describe it better, then gave Bucky an apologetic look when it was clear he couldn’t.

“From my tests, it looks like you can still perceive the stimulus- the feeling, that is- but you lack any sensation of pain, is that correct?”

“Yes” Steve confirmed.

“So what’s this mean?” Bucky asked.

Dr. Cho tucked her clipboard against her chest. “Right now it only points us towards some of the areas effected by the mass. I’ll need time to go over the scans again and compare them to these tests, and then we can move on to more specific testing to get a better idea of what’s happening”

She turned to Steve. “I’d like to keep you overnight for observation, then we can start testing tomorrow. Your sudden cognizance could be a sign that your body’s started fighting off the growth, but this could also be a sign that it’s shifting to new areas. I don’t want to rule anything out for now”

“No”

Dr. Cho blinked, thrown off again. “… No?”

“No” Steve repeated. “I have Solution. I’m going to the Garden”

There was a heavy silence.

_What?_

* * *

> 1a. Execution of simple orders:  
> « Open and close your eyes / Give me your left hand » Score: 0
> 
> 0 = performs both tasks correctly.  
> 1 = performs one task correctly.  
> 2 = performs neither task correctly.
> 
> 1b. Execution of a complex order:  
> « Put your left hand on your right ear » Score: 0
> 
> 0 = performs the task in less than 10 s.  
> 1 = performs the task in more than 10 s or requires the order to be repeated.  
> 2 = performs the task partially.  
> 3 = does not perform the task.
> 
> 2\. Repetition of words:  
> 2a. « button » Score: 0  
> 2b. « handle » Score: 0  
> 2c. « mixing » Score: 0
> 
> 0 = normal repetition.  
> 1 = abnormal repetition but the word is correct and recognizable by the examiner.  
> 2 = non-repetition or unrecognizable word.
> 
> 3\. Repetition of a sentence:  
> « The boy is singing in the woods » Score: 0
> 
> 0 = normal repetition.  
> 1 = abnormal repetition but the sentence is recognizable by the examiner.  
> 2 = non-repetition or unrecognizable sentence.
> 
> 4\. Object naming:  
> 4a. « watch » Score: 2  
> 4b. « pen » Score: 2  
> 4c. « shoe » Score: 2
> 
> 0 = normal naming.  
> 1 = abnormal naming but the word is correct and recognizable by the examiner.  
> 2 = wrong naming or unrecognizable word.
> 
> 5\. Verbal semantic fluency task:  
> « Name as many animals as you can in one minute » Score: 4
> 
> 0 = more than fifteen words.  
> 1 = between eleven and fifteen words.  
> 2 = between six and ten words.  
> 3 = between three and five words.  
> 4 = between zero and two words.
> 
> Total Score 10/23
> 
> Results Interpretation: Score of 10-14 indicative of a moderate language-related disability; restricted autonomy of verbal communication.
> 
> Tester’s notes: Patient has severe difficulty with word retrieval of nouns and verbs; mild grammatical speech difficulties. Speech articulation, fluency, repetition, and comprehension all within normal ranges. Suspected Broca’s anomic aphasia, in-depth testing required to confirm. Further examination of the frontotemporal network of brain regions is to be done.

Results of Aphasia Rapid Test for patient S. G. Rogers

  
(Sample of work by S. G. Rogers. Done during medical exam shortly after gaining awareness)


	17. Chapter 17

_The behaviour of organisms within the Occupied Zone does not lend to a clear sense of a cohesive ecosystem. While some organisms conduct themselves exactly as their closest Earth counterpart would, others behave much more erratic, or in a manner that would be considered counter-intuitive._

_The coin beetle (see page 40), for example, behaves as one would expect a beetle to; seeking food, avoiding predators, building nests, reproducing, etc._

_However, a prime example of erratic behaviour can be seen with the diamond centipede (see page 51), which is only prolific due to excessive asexual-reproduction. The organism eats sporadically, often starving to death from its own negligence, and sometimes performing acts of self-cannibalization despite an abundance of food around it. They can often be seen running in circles, bumping into obstacles, or writhing on the ground for no reason._

_As a whole, this mix of functional and nonfunctional behaviour raises questions of how adaptive these organisms are to Earth’s environment, and whether there is some factor causing certain organisms to thrive while others falter._

_The clear lack of alien microscopic organisms may point to Earth-native bacteria causing detrimental effects, though virulent, chemical, and overall atmospheric conditions may also be a factor._

_-Excerpt from page 10 of the Harriman Park Report_

* * *

“I have Solution!” Steve said angrily as he tried to moved past Bucky, determined to leave.

“I don’t know what that means!” Bucky snapped, blocking the doorway.

“It’s for demon seed! God is _dead!_ ”

They’d gone around in circles like this. Steve had made it clear he wanted to _go back to the Occupied Zone_ , and none of his explanations were making sense. Maybe it was an issue of translation, but for all they knew Steve wasn’t all there. These could be the half-thought urges of brain damage, and until they knew for sure, Bucky wasn’t letting him go anywhere, but _especially_ not there.

Dr. Cho had gone off to give them some space to ‘ _talk through their options_ ’, as she diplomatically put it.

“You’re not leaving until the doc clears you”

“But I have Solution!”

“Tough!”

Steve made a frustrated noise at the back of his throat. He was pissed and riled, practically pacing trying to find a way around Bucky that wasn’t outright violent.

“I’m going, you can’t stop me”

They locked eyes, both of them tense. Without looking away, Bucky spoke.

“Jarvis, lock down the floor for Steve. He doesn’t leave without approval from me or Dr. Cho”

“Yes Sergeant Barnes”

Steve looked up at the ceiling, his teeth bared in a snarl. “Jarvis,…” his mouth twitched in irritation, the gears turning to find whatever phrase he needed, “…let me out”

“I’m afraid I am under order to keep you detained. Due to recent medical conditions which have effected your mental capabilities, Sergeant Barnes has been logged in my system as your medical proxy, and his commands have been given priority over your own. However, I can lift these restrictions if you provide your override code”

Steve opened his mouth, then paused. His brow furrowed as he tried to formulate the words, and Bucky’s heart squeezed watching him struggle. He could see the moment Steve realized he couldn’t say them, and he glared at Bucky in betrayal.

“You’re not leaving” Bucky said again.

They both stood in a standoff, Steve gritting his teeth and Bucky holding firm at the doorway, when he heard people approaching in a rush from down the hall.

“ _Robocop!_ ” Tony yelled, clearly upset. Bucky half-turned to peer down the hallway while keeping the doorway blocked, seeing Tony fast-walking towards him, Sam and Clint in-tow. “Was I hearing right when Jarvis told me the caregiver I _hired and vetted_ was an android the _whole time_ \- oh” Tony was yelling indignantly, but stopped short when he got to the doorway and spotted Steve.

“Uh, hey Steve” Tony turned to Bucky, “Did he get hurt? Jarvis said you were the only one she attacked”

“Hey Tony” Steve greeted, and Bucky had to look back at the sudden casual tone. It was like a switch had been flipped, the anger and frustration completely gone from Steve’s demeanor and replaced with something neutral. Flippant, even. Like they’d been interrupted in the middle of a normal conversation.

There was a weighted pause as Tony, Sam, and Clint absorbed Steve’s words. The matching looks of shock on the three men’s faces would’ve been comical if Bucky weren’t still thrumming with pent-up unease.

“I’m sorry, did you just speak?” Tony asked.

“As I tried to inform you, Sir, Captain Rogers seems to have become more cognizant” Jarvis said.

“That’s… shit, how are you doin’ man?” Sam asked a little dazedly. Him and Clint were leaning to see Steve past the crowded doorway. Both were sporting the starts of some heavy bruises, but neither looked too worse for wear.

“I’m running” Steve answered, looking them up at down, frowning. “Are you?”

“Hey, can we take this inside? Somewhere with chairs, and painkillers?” Clint suggested.

There was another moment of tension, then Steve took several steps back. Bucky followed him in slowly, the rest flooding in behind.

“Dr. Masony will be in shortly to see you both” Jarvis informed.

Steve’s crossed his arms worriedly, looking between Sam and Clint as they removed their protective gear slowly, muffling their groans. “Are you guys alive?” he asked

They paused their movements at Steve’s questions.

“…Yes? Unless this is some elaborate afterlife transition” Clint said hesitantly, sharing a look with the rest of the room.

Bucky sighed, running a hand across his brow. “He’s asking if you’re okay”

There was a beat, then Sam spoke. “Yeah, we’re fine, just some bruising. Tony took out most of them, they weren’t especially prepared for us, they only brought anti-aircraft rounds. Clint and I got a bit banged up when the jet took a hit, because _someone_ didn’t secure the heavy-duty first-aid kit” he shot Clint a pointed look.

“The irony is what stings the most” Clint said ruefully.

Steve actually snorted, a small smile playing on his lips as he relaxed.

Sam also smiled, but then he dropped it for a more serious look. “Seriously though, are _you_ okay? What happened? Last we heard there was an android, and you’re talking now?”

“I’m running. I turned the Solution and I have it now” Steve said. “The… the not-real woman… she was eating Bucky-” Steve’s expression became frustrated. “She was eating Bucky” he tried again. “She was _eating_ Bucky”

He turned to Bucky unhappily, silently asking for help explaining. The other three wore varying expressions of concern and confusion.

“He means she attacked me” Bucky clarified, hoping that’s what Steve was going for. He wasn’t even going to bother trying to decipher the rest. He went on to explain the events that led them here, from how the attack started to coming to the med floor.

“And you guys are… good?” Sam asked, side-eyeing Steve in particular.

“Just some cuts, and she didn’t lay a finger on Steve”

“You sure she didn’t knock his head into something?”

“I didn’t get my head knocked, it’s Solution. I’m not turning and running _more_ ” Steve said in exasperation.

Both Clint and Sam shared a look with Bucky, and he returned it. _I know, I hear it too_ , he told them silently.

It was clear their concerns hadn’t been allayed, but that was when Dr. Masony arrived, calling both of them in for their workup. Unlike him and Steve, _they_ couldn’t sleep-off internal bleeding. Sam and Clint reluctantly left, casting lingering glances back at Steve until they were out of sight, promising to return as soon as they were cleared.

That just left Tony with them, who was gawking Steve like he was an alien.

“When you get the chance, think you could take a look at the android in our apartment?” Bucky asked when the silence stretched a little too long, snapping him out of whatever thoughts he was having.

“Right, right” Tony said. “Jarvis, send some drones up to get what’s left of our resident Terminator, take it all to my private lab, full lockdown” His tone became all business as he went on, “Get in contact with Red, tell her to drop whatever spy errand she’s on and bring her up-to-date on what’s happening. Do the same with Hill, we need to look into how this got through our checks” he instructed.

“Right away, Sir”

Tony pulled out his phone and started typing something out on it. “Give me a few hours to poke C-creepio for answers. I’m putting Jarvis on high alert, all staff are getting a mandatory paid day off until we can find a way to detect this kind of thing- and Jarvis, do _not_ tell Happy about this incident”

“Of course Sir, perish the thought of alerting our security personnel to any potential danger” Jarvis intoned dryly.

“Exactly” Tony muttered, too distracted to pick up on the sarcasm. He briefly looked up from his screen, eyes shifting between Bucky and Steve. “You two okay for now?” he asked, barely letting his eyes touch on Steve.

“We’re fine” Bucky assured.

Tony nodded, casting one more awkward glance at Steve. “It’s, uh, good to have you back” he said quickly as he backed out of the room.

He watched as Tony made a hurried exit, faster than his rush coming in. Steve let out a loud breath behind him, and he turned to see Steve looking at him pointedly. His friend may have lacked words, but the two of them hardly needed to speak when it came to things like this.

“You ain’t leaving pal” Bucky said again, with less heat than before. Seeing their friends had taken the wind out of their sails.

“I’m not gonna sink here for, for…” he paused, mouth turning down, “for all” he finished tiredly as he backed away, taking the seat where Clint been.

_I won’t stay here forever._

“I’m not keeping you prisoner, you know that, right?” Bucky said, following after him. “But you’ve got alien shit in your head, and what if-” he swallowed, “what if it’s messing with your mind? What if it’s _making_ you want to go back there?” He went and knelt at Steve’s feet, resting his hand on Steve’s knees, “I can’t just, just _abandon_ you to that. We need to be sure you’re okay- _I_ need to be sure you’re okay”

Steve’s face softened in sympathy, and he took Bucky’s hands in his. “Buck, it _is_ making me go. The Dogma has to keep”

A chill went down Bucky’s spine and froze him in place, but Steve went on. “I know how I am, and I have Solution. I _have_ to go to the Garden, Buck. I’m clergy now, it isn’t choice”

He was looking at Bucky calmly while he spoke, gently explaining like he was giving difficult news to a child, talking about _solution_ and _clergy_ and _dogma_ as if Bucky was supposed to know what that was. Bucky could feel his heart beating against his chest, a very real fear for what was happening to the man he loved showcased in front of him.

Bucky forced a smile, pretending he understood, and squeezed Steve’s hands in his. “Okay, but can you stay for a while? Until we know you’re not dying at least?”

Steve sighed. “I’ll stay for less days, but I’m done like this. I turned the Solution”

Bucky nodded past the nonsense, picking up that Steve was yielding, albeit temporarily. That was fine, because they’d find what was wrong and fix it before it became a problem.

As Steve smiled and pulled him in for a hug, as Bucky started shaking and whispering how much he’d missed him, as he broke down and cried into Steve’s shoulder, he clung to that belief. They _would_ find a solution to this.

And just as much as he clung to that belief, he adamantly ignored how Steve’s comfort was nowhere near what Steve would’ve done in this situation. Steve would’ve been heartbroken at seeing Bucky like this. He would’ve been just as close to tears, feeling guilty and apologizing for putting Bucky in this position, even though it wasn’t his fault. There was no misplaced guilt here when there would’ve been otherwise.

More so, Steve wouldn’t have backed off from the fight earlier just because their friends had arrived. He was a stubborn ass who held onto his opinion like a dog with a bone, he wouldn’t just drop it.

He wouldn’t have accepted everything Dr. Cho had been saying with a nod, no questions asked. Steve needed to know what was happening at any given time, he needed the control, yet not a single question about his body? No concerns about the alien growth inside him? Not even a question about Angela and the attack.

Everything about this Steve was… _less_. It was still _Steve_ , Bucky knew that much, but he was muted. Like his edges had been sanded down.

Steve held him through his tears, not saying anything, not making a sound, holding Bucky firmly while resting his cheek on top of Bucky’s head.

They’d fix this.

* * *

[Transcript begins 00:00:08]

CHRISTOPHER HOGAN: _Waldwick residents were greeted to a shocking sight earlier today when a Hydra group fired anti-aircraft weapons at an Avenger’s jet just off Highway Seventeen._

ALISON FEIFFER: _Suspects were reported using missile weapons a little under two-hundred yards outside of a residential area. Thankfully nobody was hurt as Iron Man subdued the suspects. Local police were on-scene to detain the suspects, however, several were seen fleeing. Bergen County residents are advised to stay inside and lock doors and windows until suspects can be apprehended._

[Image of police arresting kneeling suspects, faces blurred. Images changes to the Avengers logo]

FEIFFER: _An official statement from the Avengers cites they were enroute for the Harriman Park Occupied Zone for classified reasons and were not aware of any Hydra group activities in the area. Officials are speculating this was a targeted attack against the Avengers, though no comment was released on the matter._

[Image changes to unlabeled graph showing increasing statistics]

HOGAN: _Attacks from Hydra affiliated groups have been increasing steadily over the past three months, could it be because Captain America has been on leave?_

[Images changes to still of Captain Rogers in uniform, captioned “CAPTAIN AMERICA MISSING?”]

HOGAN: _Tune in tonight at eight for a special report on where_ _our_ _nation’s hero has_ _been hiding, and what it could mean for crime rates_ _._

Transcript excerpt of NBC News Report, NY

  
(Left arm scans of patient S. G. Rogers, taken 1 week and 14 weeks after incident, respectively, to track alien growth)


	18. Chapter 18

_Species 020  
_ _Official name: Novis lophyra pumilus venandis  
_ _Laymen name: Pygmy Hunter Beetle_

_The pygmy hunter beetle is similar to the Coleoptera order of the Carabidae family (ground beetle), and is a smaller subspecies of the hunter beetle (see Hunter Beetle on page 16). It can be identified by the long, slender legs, pointed and curved mandibles, and large, bulbous eyes. The beetle is bright yellow in colouring, like their larger cousins. They can range from 1-5cm in length._

_The beetles are herbivores, but as per their namesake, they are hostile exclusively to Earth-native organisms and display predatory behaviour towards them. Their smaller size means they primarily prey on other insects, but there have been cases of small swarms taking down organisms as large as mice. They will then leave the corpses of their prey for other scavengers to eat._

_We have deemed the pygmy hunter beetle to pose moderate threat to life on Earth due to their aggressive nature and potential to spread beyond the Occupied Zone. Individuals have been spotted chasing their prey beyond the borders, where they will go on a ‘killing spree’ as they hunt every Earth-native insect they encounter._

_The issue has not reached dangerous levels, however, as these beetles seem unable to consume Earth-native plants, and they starve to death within two days outside of the Occupied Zone._

-Excerpt from page 44 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

They passed the night on the medical floor with Clint and Sam keeping them company. The conversation shifted from light topics to Avengers’ business to Steve’s recovery, and there was always an awkward stammer to the discussion when Steve spoke.

It wasn’t just his many pauses that made things difficult; often he’d say something that couldn’t be interpreted at all, and it became a game of twenty questions to figure out what he meant. An hour into the conversation and Steve had gotten sick of his own inability to talk, to the point where he stopped contributing outright.

It wasn’t all pointless though. Bucky got more details about the Hydra ambush on their earlier transport mission. After they’d taken the initial hit, Tony had flown out to take care of the attackers, who hadn’t been equipped to deal with the suit.

Tony had them dealt with in under five minutes, leaving Sam and Clint the opening to get away, and they’d delivered the samples successfully. Maria had met them at the research facility and elected to stay and monitor the samples in case Hydra tried to grab them again. Though with Tony and Natasha’s security measures, it was unlikely.

She also had agents working to find how their flight plan had been acquired, but signs were pointing to an intercepted communication with the zone’s research coordinator. Go figure a failure of security on their end.

Clint bowed out when he yawned for the eight time, and Sam followed an hour later, leaving Bucky alone with Steve. There was an awkward ten minutes as they prepared for bed, brushing their teeth with the provided toothbrushes and toothpaste, changing into the sleepwear that had to be delivered from their floor because Steve was in lockdown and Bucky was unwilling to leave his side.

Steve was the first to lie down, and it left Bucky standing at the side of the bed, wondering if he was welcome. This wasn’t their California King bed by any means, it wasn’t even a double, and there was no getting around the fact that they’d be pressed up against each other.

Any other day that wouldn’t have been a problem, but Bucky didn’t know where he stood with Steve. Was he still upset at being confined? Was he resentful? Bucky honestly couldn’t tell. Steve was the picture of neutrality, and that in itself was putting him on edge.

Steve decided for him when he looked up in puzzlement. “You coming?” he asked, and that was all the invitation Bucky needed to sidle in close. Steve wrapped his arms around him and tucked his face into Bucky’s neck. It left Bucky reeling.

He’d never seen Steve lose momentum like this. When he got angry, he _got angry_ , and it carried over for hours. Bucky kept expecting him to be tense, to be upset, and the fact that he’d dropped the issue all together was too foreign.

It kept him awake. Too much had happened and his thoughts kept circling. Steve on the other hand was out in less than a minute, his breath puffing softly against Bucky’s neck.

They lay like that for hours, the soft hum of medical machinery in the other rooms filling the silence, until the sky brightened outside their window and the sound of the elevator arriving signaled Dr. Cho’s return.

Roughly another hour passed before Steve woke, and the two of them dressed and ate their delivered breakfasts. Cho pulled Steve aside for another scan and a few more quick tests to check for any changes.

When she was done, they all sat down in her office. Bucky didn’t like the serous look on her face.

“I’m going to be honest,” she started, “the situation’s much more complex than I originally thought. Which doesn’t mean _worse_ ,” she quickly added, “just unknown. These growths are far more alien than I’d anticipated, they don’t follow the same model as cancer, or even the fungal growths we might see with meningitis” she pulled up a set of images on the screen behind her, showing different head scans.

She pointed to one of the images, “Here’s a normal human brain,” then swept to a series of three images, each of a brain with different patterns of dark spots, “and these are examples of tumours and fungal infections. Now _these_ ,” she pointed to a new set, and Bucky recognized them from the countless medical appointments, “are Steve’s. Notice how the tumours and infections appear as localized masses, but in Steve’s case, the whole thing is more akin to a root system. It’s spread to nearly every area of the brain, but heavily concentrated in the frontal lobe.

“My team and I had treated it like any other mass, but now that I’m able to correlate more symptoms to it, I’m finding it’s not behaving in a manner I’m familiar with. By all means, you should be having a whole grouping of other issues. I’m more surprised it’s only your speech, behaviour and sensory input that’s being effected”

Bucky frowned. “So what’s this mean for Steve?”

“Right now, all it means is our tests are inconclusive”

“Am I dead?” Steve asked.

“If you’re asking if you’re fine, I can’t give you a definitive answer. What I can say is that you’re stable, for now”

Steve nodded. “So I’m not dead…” his face scrunched, and he looked down for a moment to think. “… I’m not going to… I’m not going to _be_ dead? Yes?”

She nodded. “At this time I can say your condition isn’t terminal, so long as we don’t see any more changes in the growth, but that could change at any moment. With your permission, I would like to run a more in-depth battery of testing, including a biopsy-”

“ _No_ ” Steve said, cutting her off.

Bucky was a little discouraged to hear Steve turn down the help, but a small part of him sighed in relief. Months, _months_ of telling them not to cut into his brain, and he’d made the choice Steve had wanted. The small feeling of vindication didn’t quite hold up to the fact that Steve was saying no under the possible influence of brain damage, though.

Bucky turned to him imploringly “Just let her run a few more test, it ain’t gotta be any of the invasive ones”

Steve stood abruptly, leaning over with his hands on the desk and looking between Bucky and the doctor. “No, I’m _done._ This is how I am. I let you run your tests and I’m not… I’m not _dying_. Now _let me out_ ”

“Where you gonna go if I do?” Bucky asked, knowing the answer. He knew he was goading Steve, but he needed Steve to understand why he couldn’t let him follow this self-destructive path.

“The Garden”

Bucky braced himself as he spoke. “The garden, where that thing cut your face off. You don’t hear yourself? You don’t remember what fucking happened last time you went?” Bucky shook his head. “It’s not happening, you ain’t going, not like this”

Steve’s mouth turned into a snarl and he stood to full height. “You said! You _said!_ I stayed for the tests, she said I’m not dying! _”_

“And you ain’t thinking right!” Bucky said just as heatedly, standing to meet Steve eye-to-eye.

“Both of you need to settle down” Dr. Cho interjected sternly. “Steve, you have a pervasive growth inside your mind. You’re having difficulty with judgment and I need you to take a step back; and James, do not upset my patient further. You’re his medical proxy but _I’_ _m_ his general practitioner, and I _will_ ask you to leave if you continue this behaviour”

Bucky consciously forced himself to relax, backing away. He broke eye contact because otherwise they’d stare each other down. Slowly, both he and Steve took their seats again.

Dr. Cho leaned forward. “Steve, I realize this isn’t an ideal situation, and if you will, I’d like to understand what it is you want so we can move forward with what’s best for you”

Steve let out a peeved breath, but he nodded tightly for her to go on.

“I’m going to ask you some questions, and I’d like you to answer them as detailed as you can. Take your time, use as many words as you need. I’ve also brought some alternative forms of communication for you to try” she said as she pulled out a tablet from a drawer. She turned on the screen and flipped it around, handing it to Steve.

“Writing and drawing didn’t seem to work for you, but I’d like you to try typing. If that doesn’t work, we have a communication app with images and words for you to choose from that may help. It has a general dictionary of common words, but I’ve curated a selection more geared to your situation. Before we get into that though, I’d like you to type ‘ _the dog chases the cat’_ to get a baseline”

Steve typed the phrase with no issue, along with the next three sentences, each with progressively more complex words. Then she had him type _God is dead_ and _demon seed_ , just to check. Both successful.

“Now I’d like you to describe how you’re feeling to the best of your ability. You can use any words you feel are appropriate, and it can be as simple or complex as you like”

Steve nodded and started typing. It took longer than the other sentences, and when he turned the tablet around for them to read, suffice to say the results were disheartening:

`b a c b e  
a c a a e b c b c e b c b b e b c b b e b c d a e  
a c a a e b c b c e b c c b e b c d c e b c b b e`

Dr. Cho puzzled at the letters for a moment. “Can you read this out loud?”

“I…” Steve’s brow furrowed, and he flipped the tablet to read what he’d written. “I… I am… I’m running…? I know what I meant to say, but I can’t… talk it out” he said, miming pulling something from his mouth.

“Alright. Let’s try the communication app”

Their tests went much better for the app, and Steve was able to understand all the symbols with their associated words. Bucky hid his distaste for the obvious custom ones that had been added, like the image of a flower garden labeled _Occupied Zone_ , or a cartoon caterpillar labeled _Slasher_. It filled Bucky with abhorrence, the innocence of the image paired with the name.

“Okay, so Steve, what is it that you want?”

“I want you to let me out” and he selected the words _Walk_ and _Outside_ from the tablet.

“And where will you go when you leave? What will you do?”

“I’m going to the Garden” Steve said, then tapped the word _Occupied Zone_.

“Steve, it’s a dangerous place to go, you would be at great risk of being attacked by one of the bugs there. What is it that you want from the Occupied Zone?”

“I don’t _want_ anything, it’s” Steve fumbled, started again. “I have to, I have… Solution. I have Solution, for demon seed”

There was a pause. “I need you to expand on what you mean by _‘solution’_ ”

Steve’s grimaced tightly, scrolling through the small dictionary of words. He took a full five minutes before he tried speaking.

“Solution is… help, for the Gardener to be more… computer. And to be… teacher. Not _teacher_ , but, you don’t have the right one here. To… sleep… a morning, and, and…” he trailed off, scrolling back and forth until he sighed, “Not _happy_ , but you don’t have the right one. There isn’t, I can’t _say_ ”

Steve was clearly irritated, the selection too limited for what he was trying to get across- or maybe he couldn’t tell what words were the right fit at all. This was the best he could do, stuttering out words to try and connect the ones he’d chosen from the tablet.

“This isn’t helping me talk, I’m talking _worse_ with this” he said as he put the tablet down on the desk.

“I understand this can be frustrating, and we can start adding more words to the selection, but for now I think this is a real improvement. What I’m hearing is there’s something you need to do at the Occupied Zone, and it involves the creature that attacked you, correct?”

Steve nodded hesitantly, not quite agreeing- but neither disagreeing- with Cho’s interpretation.

“See, even just these few words have gotten us a little more on track to understanding what you’re saying. I’d like to start you on speech therapy, it could greatly improve your communication so we can work out what it is you want and get there together”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, then leveled Dr. Cho with a serious look.

“God, is dead” he said with a pause between each word, not from hesitation but so they could follow his thought.

“I have Solution… to… resurrect… God” he stopped and looked between Bucky and Cho to make sure they were following. “I have to go…” he stopped, pulled up the tablet and selected the symbol of a mailbox with the word ‘ _Mail’_ written underneath, “and _give_ , Solution” he said, emphasizing the mailbox, “to the Gardener,” he tapped on the symbol for _Slasher_ , “so there can be _seed_. The Dogma is kept”

There was a weighted beat. Dr. Cho’s mouth quirked downwards for half a second.

“I’m afraid I’m not following”

There was another pause.

“God… is _dead_ ” Steve started again.

* * *

> _There’s more, I know there’s more to it than this. The others don’t see, and maybe they don’t want to see. I don’t blame them. I’m the only one looking into this, and I don’t even like it anymore._
> 
> _So many Hydra attacks, Slasher is getting a steady meal each week practically. Nobody wants to claim the bodies. I’ve spent too much time looking over them. I got what I wanted and it’s horrible._
> 
> _These aren’t raccoon, these are people, and what Slasher does is so much different with them. I realized with Rogers that people are alive when these things happen. ~~Rogers wasn’t shown~~ ~~mercy~~ ~~, he was half-eaten and spat out~~ This is what happens to all its victims, Rogers was let go before it could finish. Other people aren’t so lucky, it keeps going even after they die._
> 
> _~~What if they die too early? What if Rogers’ enhancements let him survive long enough for~~ ???????_
> 
> _I don’t even know. If I don’t count naps, I haven’t slept in about 60 hours. I’m in the gallery. ~~, what we call the morgue.~~ ~~Haha, because we call Slasher’s mutilated bodies sculptures, get it?~~ It’s full of people turned inside-out. I’m writing this next to a dead guy whose legs are bent backwards, and that’s the least terrible thing done to him._
> 
> _It’s not all Slasher though. There’s a plastic tub in the fridge filled with the leftovers of someone that had a run-in with piranha worms. It’s mostly liquid, I don’t know how they got it all in there._
> 
> _~~I hate it in here~~ I’m the only one willing to study this. I used to take breaks to study the other specimens, but I was banned from the lab after my stunt with the blood samples. You’re welcome for the discovery._
> 
> _I don’t think I can get anything more from how these bodies are ~~bent~~ ~~sculpted~~ done up, but there might still be something with the bones. I realized the etchings are the same patterns as the coin beetle shells, you just need to account for the curvature of the bones. It’s most obvious on the skull and pelvis. _
> 
> _Rogers was drawing these too, I still have some pictures saved. I’ve been comparing them all to each others, Slasher’s and Rogers’ and the beetles themselves. I’m not seeing a recognizable pattern, but it’s all I can stomach to do right now._
> 
> _I’m sure the others will let me back into the lab once we get Rogers’ blood. ~~They need me~~ They’ll need my expertise._

Excerpt from the Personal Journal of Dr. Mike Sabos, member of the Harriman Research Team

  
(Selection of words by patient S. G. Rogers)


	19. Chapter 19

_Species 024  
_ _Official name: Novis tonicella munivitus  
_ _Laymen name: Urchin Flea_

_The urchin flea, contrary to its name, is more closely related to the Polyplacophora class of Mollusca (chiton, or ‘sea cradles’, of the mollusc family)._

_It can be identified by a flat, shelled body composed of eight separate shell plates of light-blue colour. These plates overlap, providing both protection and the flexibility for movement. Beneath this shell is the soft body of the organism. The flat bottom, known as the foot, is used for movement in a similar manner as the Pulmanata order (slug, snail), using muscular contractions and excreted mucus for locomotion across surfaces. Adults range from 5mm to 8cm in length._

_Lending to its name, the urchin flea parasitically feeds exclusively on the urchin (Novis tripneustes spinae). They use a specialized beak to break down the urchin’s spines, continually feeding on the still-living urchin until everything is consumed._

_We have deemed the urchin flea to pose minimum threat to life on Earth due to their niche diet, as they are beneficial in the control of the urchin population._

-Excerpt from page 65 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

They went around in circles again trying to decipher what Steve was trying to say, and it was going nowhere. Steve had a _solution_ that he needed to deliver to Slasher, but what that solution was remained a mystery. Why the fuck it had to go to that monster was beyond him, but it wasn’t going to happen. Bucky wouldn’t let that thing get Steve again, not on his life.

According to Steve, he had the solution to resurrect God, which was not something he would, or _could_ , make any clearer. What _was_ clear was that he wouldn’t wait around for speech therapy.

They were on their eighth go-around of Steve trying to explain why they needed to let him out of lockdown _right now_ , when Jarvis pinged them with a message over the speakers.

“Apologies for the interruption. Sir has called a meeting to discuss the recent security breach. He has requested the presence of Sergeant Barnes, as well as Captain Rogers, in his words, ‘If he feels like it, no pressure’”

Bucky looked to Dr. Cho for what she thought of the interruption. He wasn’t going to leave Steve, and if she wanted to continue then he’d stay until it was done. She surprised him when instead she offered a break, “I think a little time to decompress would be a good idea at this point, what do you think, Steve?”

Steve had his hands interlocked behind his head, frustrated after repeating the same thing without any kind of success. He grumbled ‘ _yeah_ ’ under his breath, moving the tablet off his lap and putting it down a little harder than he should’ve, making it clatter on the desk.

As Bucky got up, he realized that if he wanted Steve to come along then they’d have to leave the floor, and that wasn’t happening. The medical floor was outfitted with full lockdown protocols, but the intel and debrief floor was not. The doors here where solid metal with magnetic deadbolts, all under Jarvis’ monitoring. It had all the same outfitting as Tony’s workshop and the R&D levels, and though it was a security feature intended to keep things _out,_ it could work just as well the other way.

Thinking fast, he called out, “Jarvis, would it be possible to hold the meeting here, on this floor?”

“One moment Sergeant Barnes… Yes, the others will be arriving shortly. There is a conference room two halls down and to the left. I can direct you”

They bid their goodbyes to Dr. Cho, but not before she pulled him aside to quietly tell him to avoid causing Steve any stress, and to call for her if Steve needed anything to ‘calm him down’. Bucky took that as the message it was: there were tranquilizers at the ready, if needed. Bucky nodded but frowned, unhappy that this was where they were at with Steve.

They made their way to the conference room, taking seats next to each other at the long table. Steve drummed his hands on the wooden surface, working his jaw in residual frustration, but even that was starting to lessen.

A few minutes later the others arrived, greeting Bucky and Steve, asking how they were, though they were a little more interested in Steve’s answer. Natasha in particular asked some pointed but subtle questions about his health, and didn’t show any discomfort when he used words that were off, like bringing up _solution_. She must’ve been briefed by one of the guys on what to expect.

“Alright, catch-up is great and all, but we’re on a schedule here” Tony interrupted.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “You don’t keep a schedule”

“No, but she does” he said, and a live feed of Maria Hill from the shoulders up projected onto the wall, an empty conference room behind her. Presumably the zone’s research facility.

Natasha turned to the screen, then back to Tony, who was grinning at her. “Did you have Jarvis hold off on the call just for that?”

“You can’t prove anything”

“Hey, can we get this moving? I’ve got like six other things I need to be doing right now” Maria said impatiently.

“Yep, right” Tony leaned forward, more serious. “I’ll get right into it: I did a postmortem on our Stepford wife, and to my unexpected surprise I find it’s a _Life Model Decoy_ ” he said flatly, looking pointedly at Maria.

Maria, for her part, had a pinched look. Clint made a face, and Natasha muttered the Russian equivalent of _dammit_ under her breath that probably only Bucky and Steve could hear.

“You wanna explain how that happened?” Tony asked, “Because last I heard they were all recycled for scraps. Sorry, last I was _assured._ By you”

“Well, you know,” Maria shrugged, “Hydra had access to Shield’s stores before we knew Hydra was even _in_ Shield, so it’s only natural they stole some assets during that period. And these happened to be one of them”

“I’m sorry, are you saying this android was a Shield weapon?” Sam asked.

“… I wouldn’t call it a _weapon_ , per se”

“I would” Bucky interjected, feeling the ache of his still-healing ribs.

“Okay, to be fair, it _should’ve_ been easily broken, those things are about as strong as a tinfoil. We used them as decoys for, you know, assassination attempts on our high-priority agents. They act the part perfectly too, make for some good alibis. Fury went through his like tissues, and I know Romanov and Barton have taken advantage of them in the past”

All heads turned to the two spies.

“They were effective” was all Natasha had to comment, while Clint smartly stayed quiet, hands in his lap.

“Hold on, hold on” Bucky said, waving his hand to interrupt the conversation. “Are you saying there’s a handful of androids that _look and act_ like Shield agents out there in Hydra’s hands?”

There was an uncomfortable pause. “ _Maria_ ” Bucky said sternly when she didn’t answer.

“Alright, I’ll be blunt: the LMD blueprints were stolen too. With those, they can build these to replicate any person, though last I heard the decoys weren’t enhanced like you described. I have no idea how they’re boosting them”

Fuck, _fuck_ , that put just about everyone as a threat. Bucky’s mind was racing, thinking of all the civilians that had access to them in the tower. That had access to _Steve_. There was Kevin and Magdalena still, and they were fired as of right now. Fuck, this floor had a whole staff, _Cho_ could be one-

Bucky’s chest fluttered, anyone in this _room_ could be one. How could they tell?

“I can actually answer this mystery” Tony said, unbothered by the implications of what Maria had just said. He pulled out a compact metal capsule. “ _These_ are nanomachines, little repair bots to keep your Life Model Decoy fresh and youthful. Little miss metal was lousy with ‘em, kept her strong and self-repairing. If Hydra’s juicing their LMD’s with these, I’d put them at about one supersoldier’s worth of strength”

 _Jesus Christ_ , Bucky was going to burst blood vessel. As if he didn’t have enough paranoia with strangers.

Maria frowned. “I’ll need you to send me a sample of those”

“I’ll do you one better, I’ll send you the EMP frequency that shuts ‘em off” Tony gloated, twirling the capsule between his fingers. “And before any of you ask” he added, “ _yes_ , I installed sensors to pick up on any future androids in the tower, which admittedly should’ve already been there”

Bucky felt something touch his knee then, and looked down to see Steve’s hand on his leg. He cast his eyes up to see Steve giving him a reassuring look, nodding to Tony. _He’s got it covered, stop stressing_ , Steve said with his expression, and gave Bucky’s knee a squeeze before letting go.

Bucky let out a quiet breath, forcing himself to calm. He shifted his leg to press against Steve’s, just a little, chasing after that small touch.

“Okay, so we had a suped-up android watching Steve, what about the real Angela? Didn’t we screen her? I could’a sworn she had a real family and everything” Sam asked.

Maria nodded. “We did, which is why I’ve got _another_ team looking into that. We’re thinking they took her shortly after we offered her the job. Shield’s people are working to find where they’re keeping her, but as a civilian she won’t be under heavy guard”

God, this was a mess. Steve was uncharacteristically serene about the whole thing, and it was strange seeing him so quiet. Even the frustration from earlier was gone now.

“And what about the leak at the facility?”

“We know your transport schedule got leaked through poor encryption protocols. I went through them myself, and they’re laughably thin. This place is practically broadcasting, which makes me believe it was sabotaged right at the beginning. You don’t get firewalls this weak on accident”

“But you’ve fixed it?” Sam asked.

Maria quirked an eyebrow. “Would I be videoconferencing you if it weren’t?”

“What about the staff though? Any leads on who set the sabotage?”

“About that… everyone here was screened thoroughly, so I did some more digging and, uh.. you think you could stop by with that EMP frequency? And some android scanners? And also Barnes, we don’t want stray bullets flying here, but a strong hit should take them out and I hear you’ve got a solid left-hook” she said, addressing the last part to Bucky.

Tony rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Is there a reason why we weren’t _told_ about this earlier? And I mean the Hydra-LMD thing in general, not just the ones at the bug base”

“It wasn’t a problem until recently, there was too much Hydra in-fighting to organize production. We’ve only started seeing them sporadically, they aren’t a big enough problem to alert you guys”

“As someone who’s used these extensively,” Natasha said, “I would disagree”

“Noted”

Tony groaned. “ _Fine_ , yes. We’ll make another trip to fix your robo-infestation” he said. “But next time _tell us_ about these things. I thought the whole point of New Shield was a distinct lack of secrets”

“We’re working on it. Old habits”

Tony hummed, unhappy with the answer.,

“So that’s it? Sensors, EMP and sucker punches all we gotta do?” Sam asked.

Maria shrugged. “Like I said, it wasn’t really on your guys’ level of problems, but I appreciate the assist”

Clint leaned forward. “What about the, uh, samples? Are they secure there?”

Maria leaned out of framed, then came back up with a case in her hand, waving it at the camera. “They haven’t left my sight, which is kinda why I need you to come here soon. I’ve got a lab full of antsy scientists with a subpoena and a literal platoon of soldiers on base that’ll wrestle this off me if ordered”

Bucky grit his teeth at hearing how those little pieces of Steve were being treated like some kind of goldmine. Steve didn’t seem affected, though maybe he wasn’t aware those samples were of _him_.

“We’ll be there within the hour” Natasha said, giving Bucky a look that said _you’re going_.

If these things were as weak without the nanobots as Maria said, then Bucky was best suited out of everyone here to take them down without ammunition. And if the EMP _didn’t_ work, then he was still best suited to take them down without ammunition.

Well, him and Steve, but Steve wasn’t being put on the roster.

Maria nodded curtly. “Good, I’ll see you soon. Oh, and officially, you’re coming by to drop off another set of samples, so bring an empty case” she said as she signed off.

“So robots, huh?” Sam said conversationally.

“Androids” Tony corrected. “They’re not as impressive as you think. They _say_ they do a good impression, but I’ve seen Shield’s attempt at copying me and that thing had easily only a tenth of my humour”

“A tenth of zero is still zero” Natasha said. Clint and Sam snickered.

“Hilarious” Tony said flatly.

“I’m going” Steve said out of the blue, halting any further conversation. Everyone shared a look as his word sunk in, and Bucky grit his teeth. So this was how he wanted to play it? _Good fucking luck pal, you’re not gonna get anything from these guys._

Sam was the first to speak. “I don’t think that’s a good idea” he said delicately. “We appreciate it, don’t get me wrong, but you’ve only been up for a day, and it’s been months with no training. At least wait until you’re back on your feet-”

Steve held his hand out for Sam to stop. “No, no, you guys deal with… that,” he said, waving to where Maria had been projected on the wall, “I mean, I’m going to the Garden. I’m going” he motioned for the door.

“You’re not” Bucky said firmly, preparing to have another hash-out.

“I mean, I have an entire floor that’s a garden, I don’t think it’s too much of an ask-”

“He means the _Occupied Zone_ , Tony. He want’s to go back to the _Occupied Zone_ because he’s go a _solution_ to resurrect _God_ ” Bucky intoned, directing his derision at Steve while he spoke.

“It’s _demon seed_ , God is _dead!_ ” Steve snarled back.

“Woah, okay, back up a sec” Clint said. “What’s this all about?”

Bucky took a breath, rubbing his palm over his eye before looking across the table to the rest, ignoring Steve’s dagger of a glare.

“Steve wants to go back to the Occupied Zone to do _something_ , and it involves Slasher, and that’s _all we know_ ” he turned his gaze back to Steve, “You get how that sounds, right?”

“I have Solution”

Bucky motioned to Steve, looking back around the table. _You see what I have to deal with?_

“I don’t suppose this is why Jarvis has the floor on soft lockdown, huh?” Tony asked.

Steve leaned forward, hands splayed on the table. “Let me _out_. I’m, I’m here,” he tapped his head, “and I’m choosing, I’m… It’s _my choice_ , not Bucky’s. I’m _going_ ”

Clint blew out a breath, and he shared an uncomfortable look between Sam and Tony. Natasha only held something akin to sadness in her eyes, close to what Bucky used to see in Steve’s when they visited Peggy on a bad day. Steve, meanwhile, was going around the table making eye contact, challenging anyone to say something.

Bucky held firm, unflinching at Steve’s anger. “You’re not leaving ‘til the doc clears you” he said again, praying this would be final. Couldn’t Steve let this be, for once? Nobody was dying, the world wasn’t ending, there was no _reason_ he needed to leave.

They held eye contact for a second longer, both of them tense, defensive. Then Steve posture shifted with resolves.

Steve stood and went to the door, everyone following him with their eyes. “Jarvis can you… lock” he said, knocking against the room’s door. There was a soft click as the locks engaged. What was he playing at?

Steve leveled Bucky with one last look of pure challenge, then turned and started laying solid kicks with the flat of his heel against the door.

The first hit created a heavy dent. The second bent the edges out of the frame. The third had the door crumpling on itself, and the fourth finished the job, sending the whole thing falling out of its frame. All this and Steve wasn’t even wearing shoes.

“I am detecting sudden structural instability in the door of Conference Room A, do you require assistance?” Jarvis’ voice said from the ceiling, ignored by the room’s occupants.

Steve turned back to the room, and Bucky felt like he was falling. The implication was clear, and Bucky was a fucking idiot for not having thought if it. Of _course_ he could break down these door. _Bucky_ could break down these doors.

“I’m going” he said, point proven.

Bucky grit his jaw, thinking. He’d memorized the tower’s security, and there was only one other place that could hold Steve. Getting Steve there and _keeping_ him there, however, would be violent, of that he was sure, and Bucky… he couldn’t do that to Steve.

But he also couldn’t let Steve _go_. He could just sedate him, but that would only buy time, not a solution. Keep reasoning with Steve maybe? No, Steve was done listening. Bucky was up against a wall, floundering for another way to get past the iron will and mulish determination that Steve wore like a second skin.

“Why don’t you come with us?” Natasha said, breaking the stillness of the room. She said it so casually, like that was an option, like that wasn’t the exact thing Bucky didn’t want, like it wasn't the exact thing that would get Steve hurt.

Bucky had half a mind to lunge at her, cover her mouth before she could make it worse, but it was too late for that. The offer was already out there. Steve had latched on to the idea, Bucky could see it plain as day.

It was over. Someone had said yes to Steve- the road had been paved for the steamroller, clear sailing ahead. One sentence from Natasha and Bucky had lost all leverage.

Why bother, why did he fucking bother?

Steve raised a brow, and Natasha explained. “We’re going to a research facility a mile out from.. the garden. You can hitch a ride, check it out with us. When we’re done, we can go to the garden _together_ ” her eyes briefly touched on Bucky, then back to Steve, “How’s that sound?”

It sounded terrible. What the fuck was she thinking? It was a concession, and a heavy one on their part. They were practically chaperoning him to the Occupied Zone… which Bucky now realized, was the point. Dammit Natasha.

Oh, _oh_ , he hated this. He saw now, the purpose of it, but goddamn he hated it.

Steve was going no matter what, and Natasha had picked up on that quicker than Bucky- she’d _accepted_ it quicker.

Because Steve was going, and he’d go alone without a second thought, hell or high water. He’d cut a path into that alien jungle and walk straight into the jaws of the beast, a one-man idiot.

The way Natasha had it, he’d have backup if nothing else. As a team they could watch over him, get him out if things went bad, which they inevitably would.

Bucky didn’t like it, and his first instinct was to reject the idea on principle, but the alternative was Steve leaving on his own, fighting Bucky the whole way and risking himself. That, or shoving Steve in Hulk’s room, and that was a whole can of worms Bucky didn’t want to get into.

Dammit, _fucking_ hell.

He worked his jaw, loosening the muscles to actively stop clenching. At this rate he’d wear his teeth down to the gums. He wished Natasha hadn’t sprung this out of the blue. She could’ve talked to him first, because as it was, there was no taking it back.

“Alright, I’m going with you” Steve agreed, cementing the deal.

Clint and Tony looked unsure about the whole thing, while Sam seemed to share Bucky’s opinion of this being a bad idea altogether. Even Natasha was reserved, despite having made the offer, and her assuring smile was a token gesture at best.

Only Steve was content. He actually relaxed, taking his seat again. The sudden change in demeanor was enough to give Bucky whiplash. Angry to peaceful in zero seconds flat. The others saw it too, and were visibly put off.

“Sir, I am detecting damage to the door of Conference Room A. Do you require assistance?” Jarvis’ voice came on again.

“No, just, uh. Have someone come in to replace the door” Tony said after a few second’s pause.

  
(Image of Urchin Flea, taken in lab by research team)


	20. Chapter 20

_  
Species 030  
_ _Official name: Novis bombyx plenus  
_ _Laymen name: Silkworm_

_The silkworm was first thought to be the larval stage of a yet to be discovered organisms, but closer studies have found it to be its own unique species with no further stages of growth. The silkworm has a transparent body, with the inner white veins and organs visible to the eye. The head capsule is similarly transparent._

_As per their name, the silkworm produces a fine thread, though the material itself is more rigid and transparent than that of silk. The silkworm will feed on any plant possessing foliage, often in large groups. These groups leave behind an excess of silk as they feed, even as they move on to the next plant, creating a trail of thread in their wake._

_We have deemed the silkworm to pose moderate threat to both the environment and life on Earth due to their feeding habits, and it is recommended all masses within twenty metres of the border be destroyed._

_-Excerpt from page 73 of the Harriman Park Report_

* * *

Dr. Cho had been less than pleased at the news, but seeing the broken door had brought her to the same conclusion as Bucky. She’d lost some points in her favour, however, when she’d quietly suggested sedation and relocation to the Hulk’s floor. Bucky had dismissed the idea when he’d thought of it earlier, but her clinical lack of reservations rubbed him wrong.

Bucky hadn’t been sure how much Steve would push for the trip, whether he’d want to suit up or take his bike or rush everyone to get there ASAP. And then it turned out he just wanted to _go_ , shoe-less and all. The assurance that he’d get there today was enough for him, and he wasn’t hurrying anyone to go faster. In fact, Steve actually held them back when they had to pause and scramble for his protective gear.

His suit was out of the question, as was the shield. One image of Captain America in uniform would be a PR nightmare that the others didn’t need. Particularly Sam, who’d only _just_ shaken off the paparazzi from his runs.

There weren't many options to go with and theyy settled on his standard tac gear. It was the kind used for missions where anonymity was key- where Steve was just another person in a black uniform and armored vest. They also made the call to leave Steve unarmed, nobody quite confident enough to give him a gun when he was like this. Steve didn’t argue against it.

Bucky did sheath a knife at Steve’s hip, however, and made Steve promise only to use it for self-defense and _nothing more_. If he so much as cleaned his nails with that thing, it was _gone_. Steve had given him a withering look in response, so familiar that Bucky nearly cracked a shit-eating grin on instinct; but no. Bucky remembered the blood on the hospital wall. The self-inflicted cut.

The flight on the way over was tense. Nobody knew what to do with Steve, how to interact with him, though he seemed happy enough to sit in the back with Bucky and mind his own. Bucky wasn’t even sure he was listening as the others worked through the plan to clear the building of LMD’s. Nobody mentioned going into the Occupied Zone afterwards.

As they came in to land, they ran over the plan one more time in quick points. Originally it had been just Bucky and Natasha, and officially, it _was_ only them. The rest of the team would be a surprise, even to Maria, so as to limit any Hydra interception. If asked by the people on base, they’d say Steve had wanted to see to the arrival of his samples in one piece, with the rest of the team ‘tagging along’. At worst, they’d get a slap on the wrist for the deception.

Bucky didn’t know what their excuse for going into the Occupied Zone would be, but that was Natasha’s problem. She got them into this mess, nevermind that it had averted a bad scene with Steve.

Maria took it in stride when they greeted her at the landing field, her eyes widening only briefly before acting like she’d been in the know the whole time. She couldn’t quite hide her curiosity with Steve though, and Bucky shook his head minutely, signaling her not to make anything of it out in the open.

She wasn’t the only one curious though. Steve garnered looks from the soldiers standing guard, and Bucky heard the murmur of whispers from those who thought they couldn’t hear, their eyes following Steve as they crossed the grass between the makeshift airfield and the building.

“ _I guess he didn’t die-_ ”

“ _Is that Captain America?_ ”

“ _-_ _not even in uniform-_ ”

Bucky ignored the snippets of chatter, eyeing Steve to gauge his reaction, because if Bucky could hear it then so could he. He didn’t look affected though, soldiering ahead with idle disregard for his surroundings.

Everyone who caught sight of them eyed Steve as they passed, especially at the entrance as they went through security and checked-in their firearms. Again they got a peculiar look when the guard collecting their weapons asked for Steve’s firearms, only for Natasha to step in and declare he was unarmed. Bucky could _feel_ their curiosity, their unasked questions of _why is he different?_ floating like a miasma.

Though in the grand scheme of things it was only a small discrepancy, and everything was going fine until they had to sign in. The form was nothing more than a few boxes to be ticked and a signature; it should've been easy enough.

When it was Steve’s turn to take the clipboard, he hesitated, pen poised in his hand. Tony was being the chatterbox he was, working double time to keep the attention off Steve, but the pause was starting to reach noticeable levels. Steve glanced up, looking to Bucky with confusion, and _shit_ , was there something wrong with the form?

Bucky was by Steve’s side, and he subtly glanced down at the sheet. Steve had ticked all the boxes, that was fine, but then he saw where the problem lay. The tip of the pen was pointed at the signature line, which sat blank.

Could Steve not sign his name? He knew what it was, he could say it when…

… _when prompted._

_Jesus Christ,_ it was always going to be something. If only Steve had stayed in the tower, they could’ve spent more time exploring these things so they wouldn’t be caught by surprise. Bucky schooled his face, didn’t give anything away to the waiting guard. He leaned in and turned his head down, voice lowered, “Write _Steve Rogers_ , just write those words”

Steve’s nod was subtle, a quiet thanks as he signed… as he wrote his name. It was printed and neat, another phrase to be copied. If anyone scrutinized the forms they’d spot it in a heartbeat, but that was fine, wasn’t it? It was only a small discrepancy, it wasn’t like the people here were looking for those.

Or were they?

Bucky could feel his own paranoia vibrating under his skin. There were Hydra eyes here. Enhanced, robotic eyes. It could be anyone, one of the guards maybe, and he wanted to drop everything and get started _now_ before Hydra could do anything, before they could hurt Steve. But he couldn’t act yet.

They had to work from the inside out, protect the civilian workers first, then make their way to the armed ranks outside. He itched for the guns he’d handed over, but the knives hidden on his person was enough to abate the worst of his worry.

Maria gave them a bare-boned tour as she led them through the halls, past more security checks and locked doors that needed hand-scans and passcodes, until she brought them to an office room with four cluttered desks, currently unoccupied.

“I share this room with the other liaisons but I had them clear out for a few hours. It’s secure” Maria explained, locking the door behind her as they all entered. “The base is self-sufficient, all personnel stay for a week rotation with the exception of full-time research staff. I’ll have something set up for incoming rotations, but I need you to clear the current shift”

Natasha nodded, pulling out the EMP emitter. “James and I will clear the place, these guys are gonna stay put until we’re done” she said, motioning to the rest, “Are you joining us or staying?”

Maria held up her security badge. “You’re guests, you’re not getting anywhere without my clearance. And besides, we did a full background on everyone here, and I can guarantee nobody’s Hydra. Anyone that’s a decoy is being held somewhere, so I’ll need to record who’s been replaced and send more agents to recover them”

“Sure are a lot of agents you’ve got at your disposal, huh?” Clint commented, sitting on one of the desks. “You ever think of sparing some for us? We could use the help on some missions”

Maria grimaced. “They aren’t.. _my_ agents, exactly. I’m kind of in a limbo between working with you guys and Shield. And the zone’s Research Council. I’m more of a go-between, you guys just think I have more power than I do”

“Unhelpful” Tony commented offhandedly, poking at a dog bobble-head on one of the desks.

“Honestly, you guys are only get this much help because it’s Shield’s mess to begin with”

“Well, as long as we’re clear on that”

There was a sudden building pitch that made Bucky flinch, but it quickly evened off beyond hearing range. He turned to see Natasha had activated the emitter, a small square device that rested on the floor.

“That’ll have a range of a thousand yards, easily covers everything” Tony said, taking a seat and tapping his glasses. “I’ll keep an eye on the signal, let you know if it cuts. Which it won’t”

“Thanks Tony” Natasha said, then pulled out the scanner. It had a small screen, and Bucky spied a thermal image of the room where Natasha had it pointed. “Alright, first things first” Natasha said, then aimed the scanner at herself. The screen showed a regular heat outline and didn’t emit any kind of warning sound. She then went around the room and got everyone else, just to be sure.

There was a subtle chime when she aimed it at Bucky, the screen showing warnings and highlighting his arm. Good, that proved it wasn’t just reading everything as human. Natasha continued her scan of everyone else, being extra careful when she got to Maria. Can never be too sure, though Maria took the extra scrutiny with grace. She moved on to get the others, who also read as normal-

“Hold on” Bucky said suddenly, grabbing her hand to keep the scanner pointed at Steve.

On the screen was Steve’s outline, a little warmer than the rest of them. That wasn’t too odd, Bucky had run a little hotter too. Curiously though, his left arm, the one with the growths, was glowing even _brighter_. It was several degrees warmer than the rest of him, which was…

He didn’t know. Weird, maybe. He’d mention it to Cho when they got back.

“Something wrong?” Sam asked, but Bucky shook his head, muttering that it was nothing and letting go of Natasha’s hand. She gave him an acknowledging look as he did; she’d seen it too. It wasn’t concerning enough to comment on.

“Anything else before we get started? You boys gonna be okay here without us?” Natasha asked instead.

There was a series of assents, though Steve only nodded. He’d been quiet the whole while here, just as they’d discussed on the ride over. The less people knew of Steve’s mental status the better, and his silence would tell them nothing.

“I do have a concern about why the surprise extra company, but if it’s not urgent we can talk about it when we’re done” Maria said. Always the professional, she knew when to prioritize. Bucky could appreciate that.

He sent one last look to Steve clearly telling to _stay put_ , hoping the other three would do their best to keep him here, but knowing they would only hold up so far if Steve set his mind to leaving. He had to trust Steve would keep his word and wait. Still, he lingered a little longer, until Natasha called his name from the hallway, and he turned to leave.

Maria led them to the heart of the facility where they kept the bugs. There were three doors just to get in, and they each locked ominously loud once they closed.

Inside were a series of terrariums, each holding some kind of alien plant or bug. Near the back was a full floor-to-ceiling pane that showed off a room that was some kind of miniature replica of the Occupied Zone, like something Bucky might see at a zoo. Next to the enclosure was a door that presumably led inside, as well as a rack of breathing tanks and masks.

The room was fairly vacant for the large space, only two people in lab coats were currently working, and they both looked up when they entered. Maria said something about an inspection and the two nodded, going back to work. Natasha held up the scanner checking them both.

Bucky’s already tense muscles relaxed by the smallest degree, relieved that both were human at least. He didn’t really want to fight in here, where an errant fist might shatter the glass that held alien bugs at bay.

They moved on to another research area with slightly less security, into a room of freezers labeled with specimen numbers, and even further in the back where a morgue was situated. Sheets lay over the corpses, but some of them were lumped or tented or missing sections in ways that bodies shouldn’t be, hinting at the gruesome nature underneath…

Yeah, he didn’t like this room at all.

There was a single technician checking the equipment, and another researcher who was sitting at the back with pictures of… patterns, splayed on the desk and floor around him. Bucky recognized them as the ones Steve had drawn, some literally Steve’s work, others close-ups of the beetles they were based on, and even more close-ups that took Bucky a second to identify as bones. Patterns carved into bones.

The researcher looked frazzled, and Bucky could see the exhaustion in his eyes even through the excitement as he recognized Bucky, and then Bucky recognized him in turn. He was one of the interviewers in the hospital, the one Bucky had especially disliked.

He pushed out of his chair as if he were about to come around and greet them. “Sergeant Barnes! I- hi, I don’t know if you remember me, but I was-”

“Not now Mike, we’re busy conducting a security inspection’

“It’s just a few questions-”

“You know the protocol, send me an email and I’ll get back to you when I’m available. This inspection is an urgent matter-”

While Maria deflected his attention for them, Bucky turned away, joining Natasha just to appear busy and ignore the man. With only two people, Natasha got her scanning done quick, and she signaled that the room was clear. Bucky turned on his heels and walked away, Natasha following behind. She didn’t seem to have much patience for the scientist either.

They ended up waiting an extra minute by the door before Maria joined them, a tight look on her face.

Most of the inner facility ended up being clear, and it wasn’t until they hit the common areas that they started seeing something. A lot of something, in fact.

They all stood off to the side of the cafeteria, the three of them looking down at the scanner’s beeping screen and frowning. The room was filled with what must’ve been thirty people, serving staff included.

Eighteen were reading as LMD’s. Goddamn.

Maria had a pained grimace as she slowly took note of all the false staff on her clipboard. Bucky tapped his comm, contacting the others on their secure channel.

“Hey Tony, confirm that signal’s still going?”

“ _We’re good_ ”

“Thanks”

He muted his comm, assessing the targets. “How strong did you say they were again?”

“Not very. Should be like crushing a tin can for you” Maria said.

Bucky hummed, re-counting them and double-checking the scanner. “Exits?” he asked.

“I got security to block them off, made sure it was the guards we cleared first”

“You good for this?” Natasha asked.

Bucky rolled his shoulders, re-calibrating his arm. “Yeah, just make sure anyone who’s an actual persons stays clear”

* * *

In all, it took them two hours to clear the whole place, inside and out. Destroying the LMD’s was the fasted part- the cafeteria alone had taken less than two minutes. Maria hadn’t been kidding when she said they weren’t strong; these things were downright _fragile._ The force it took to pull their heads off was less than what he’d need for an actual human’s head, and nevermind how Bucky knew that.

What took most of their time was the actual inspection of the whole place, running the scanner across each and every staff and soldier, with Maria double-checking that they’d gotten everyone. Twice they had to back-track.

By the end of it they’d gotten a total of thirty-two LMD’s, and that was far too high of a number- nearly a quarter of the staff.

“Hydra’s really cashing-out on these things, huh?” Natasha observed. “You sure this isn’t an Avengers level problem? We’re reaching body-snatcher levels here”

“No, it’s-” Maria sighed, rubbing her temple. “We already took down the nanomachine supplier, they won’t be churning out any more boosted models, and we’re close to getting the specific engineer building these. After that it’ll take Hydra a few months to find someone who can build these again, and by then we should have the whole thing taken down”

Bucky half-listened as they made their way back to Maria’s office, mind elsewhere now that the immediate threat was gone.

This had been a detour at most, their next stop was going to be into the bug nest and Bucky didn’t know how to stop it. Of course there was an easy out: they could sedate Steve, take him back to the tower. They’d be right back to square one, but Steve would be secure in his gilded cage.

That was a line too far for Bucky, though. At what point was safety worth more than freedom? Steve would’ve known, but Steve wasn’t making the decisions. What right did Bucky have to make them though? He was still struggling with the concept of his own freedom for fuck’s sake.

He could argue that Steve wasn’t in his right mind, but the same could’ve been said for Bucky when he’d first come back.

He knew it wasn’t the same, their situations were completely different- but by how much? Dr. Cho had been against this just as those doctors had been against Steve taking him home, but Steve had fought for it. All to keep Bucky away from a padded cell where ‘experts’ had said it would be safer for everyone. The least he could do was be there for Steve in the same way.

And maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? Maybe Steve would take a few steps in, see the alien plants crawling with alien bugs and be satisfied with that? Maybe ‘ _delivering solution_ ’ would be just as nonsensical to Steve as it was to them, and he’d realize it when they got there.

There had been nights when Bucky ran out of their apartment, fleeing from some imaginary threat he could’ve sworn was real, only to realize five blocks away that he couldn’t even fathom what it had been in the first place- and always Steve had been there, running with him or catching up, ready to take him home when he realized. Maybe Steve just needed that too. A few blocks to run and realize everything was fine.

It was also likely he’d just keep going, deeper and deeper into the alien forest until something tried to kill him, but that was fine too. Bucky would be there this time, as would the team, and they wouldn’t let him down again.

His thoughts were interrupted when his comm crackled, Clint’s voice coming on.

“ _Hey guys, we’re having a problem here_ ”

Bucky tensed, walking faster as he unmuted his mic. “What kind of problem?”

“ _There’s some guy trying to get_ _at_ _Steve-_ ”

Bucky didn’t wait to hear more, breaking into a run. They were two corridors from the office, and he rushed to close the distance, thoughts of androids attacking. Did they miss one? Was it a Hydra plant in the flesh? Something new?

He got to the opened door, and the sight of Steve there, safe and unhurt, was enough to calm his thoughts to something less panicked. He took a second to actually assess the room.

Sam and Tony had made themselves into a barrier in front of Steve, blocking him off from the unknown man that Clint was holding back with a grip on his bicep. The three of them were trying to reason with him, saying something along the lines of _back off_ that Bucky didn’t pay attention to as his focus shifted to the problem.

The man wasn’t violent or especially threatening, just waving papers in his hands into Steve’s line of sight, but as Bucky picked up his words, he felt a simmer of anger build in recognition. It was _this guy_ again. The one from the interview, and earlier in the morgue.

* * *

> STATUS UPDATE #000480-27 – Operation Pandora
> 
> Confirmed sighting of SGT J. B. Barnes (alias, Winter Soldier, former HYDRA asset) at Harriman Research Facility, alive. LMD-AB001 asset mission failure, assumed captured. No expected salvage.
> 
> Confirmed sighting of CPT S. G. Rogers (alias, Captain America) at Harriman Research Facility, alive, unarmed. Last known status: compromised.

Excerpt of Status Update for Operation Pandora, HYDRA Subdivision B7

* * *

> OPERATION ORDER #745000061 - Operation Pandora
> 
> […]
> 
> MISSION
> 
> PRIORITY, acquire biological samples of CPT S. G. Rogers. SECONDARY, eliminate enemy operatives, designation AVENGER.
> 
> EXECUTION
> 
> Activate LMD-BR001, LMD-BW001, LMD-DJ001, LMD-DJ2001, LMD-EO001, LMD-FK001, LMD-FN001, LMD-GG001, LMD-JP001, […] LMD-WA001 assets. Acquire biological samples of target: CPT S. G. Rogers. Evasive subroutines to continue; do not seek target. Execute mission upon visual confirmation of target.

Excerpt of Order Dispatch for Operation Pandora, HYDRA Subdivision B7

* * *

> STATUS UPDATE #000480-28 – Operation Pandora
> 
> All LMD models at Harriman Research Facility offline. Mission failure.

Excerpt of Status Update for Operation Pandora, HYDRA Subdivision B7

  
(Sample of work by S. G. Rogers)


	21. Chapter 21

_At the base level, a vast majority of Seed-native plants contain deadly amounts of calcium channel blockers (CCB), a substance which inhibits the absorption of calcium. Adversely, these plants also contain deadly amounts of the isotope calcium-40 in their root systems, leading to the theory that this is a natural method of chemical balancing._

_This chemical balance, however, causes a bioaccumulation in the food chain, where Seed-native organisms will consume the plant leaves and become saturated with CCB, in turn becoming equally toxic._

_Efforts have been made to contain all alien life within the Occupied Zone, however, it is estimated that 0.3% of the mobile population manages to escape on a monthly basis. This often leads to the death of insects, amphibians, and birds who consume them._

_Fortunately, the vibrancy of these organisms happens to mimic the aposematism of Earth-native organisms that use colouring to warn predators of their toxicity. This dissuades many predators from preying on these escaped organisms, and has aided in limiting instances of poisoning._

-Excerpt from page 5 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

“I just need to know if it means something!” the scientist said desperately, straining a little against Clint’s grip, “I’ve been staring at these for _weeks_ and they _don’t make any sense!_ Just tell me if they mean something, or- or don’t mean anything! That it’s just something you drew to pass the time and I can throw them away!”

Bucky grabbed the man by the scruff of his shirt, dragging him back and out of Clint’s grip. “He’s not answering questions, he’s not giving samples, he’s not _here for you_ ” Bucky grit out, getting in the man’s face to block him off from Steve.

“Mike, what the hell are you doing here?” Maria asked harshly.

“It’s- you said, you said I could make an appointment but you don’t check your emails so I came in person,” he explained, “and I didn’t realize _Captain Rogers_ was here and I have so many questions for you sir!” he said the last part directed at Steve, which made Bucky growl because _how dare he-_

Sam pushed in to get between them, laying a hand on Bucky’s shoulder in a silent request to back away that Bucky ignored, and they ended up speaking over each other.

“How about you _fuck off-_ ”

“This ain’t the place-”

Another hand touched the back of Bucky’s neck, and he turned to snap at whoever thought they could just touch him like that, but the words died in his mouth when he saw it was Steve.

He was looking past Bucky, focused on the papers in Mike’s hands- and _fuck_ , now Bucky had learned the guy’s name. Fucking Mike.

“Is there anything to these patterns? Is it a message, or language of some kind? Please, just, anything you can tell me” he said, holding out a collection of scanned images. Bucky was so livid that he almost missed the implication of what the scientist had asked, but then the words sank in and _Je-sus_ , he wasn’t getting into that. Not right now, on top of everything else that was happening.

Steve took the photos silently, frowning at the first picture. The room quieted.

“It’s demon seed” Steve finally said.

 _Here we go_ , Bucky thought.

“… and what is that, exactly?” Mike asked.

“It’s demon seed”

Mike blinked. “Oh, yes, you brought that up during your recovery didn’t you? Is that a metaphor for something?”

“It’s demon seed”

“But what is-”

“Yeah, I’m gonna go ahead and stop you there before we find out Who’s on First” Tony cut in.

“No, no, wait, if you could just take a moment to explain-”

Steve was ignoring him now, flipping through the pictures.

Bucky watched him carefully. This was the first time he’d shown interest in the patterns since he woke, and Bucky didn’t know what kind of reaction they might get. He didn’t know anything about Steve’s reactions right now.

Steve was going through them fast, dismissing his own work and barely pausing when he came across a picture of a beetle shell, letting them drop to the floor one by one, until he stopped with an imperceptible jolt. He let out a shaky breath, gaze caught on a new image.

It was one of the close-up of a bone, deep lines etched in a geometric pattern along its surface, the edges tinged in the brown of dried blood. Just like the ones he’d seen Mike studying in the morgue.

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. How could he…? Why the _fuck_ would he bring these here?

Steve’s eyes slowly welled with tears, a single track falling down his cheek as he stared, frozen at the sight of what was in his hand.

 _I’m gonna kill him, swear to God I’m gonna kill him_ , Bucky thought furiously, because who showed these to a person who’d been torn apart? No concern, no thought put into it. That sniveling little vulture had just come in here waving this in Steve’s face-

 _Not now_. He’d deal with the scientist later.

Bucky yanked the picture away, out of sight and pray-to-god out of mind, and put in arm over Steve’s shoulders. “Hey, it’s alright. You don’t gotta look at that shit, we can get him outta here, or go somewhere else-”

“No, it’s not for _me_ ” Steve warbled, then swallowed and wiped his eyes, shrugging Bucky off his shoulders.

Bucky had been part of interrogations where their mark bawled for mercy, only to shut off the crocodile tears when they saw it wouldn’t work- and they had nothing on how fast Steve did it. He let out a breath and composed himself- terrifyingly- in less than a second. Unease rippled through the room.

Steve grabbed the picture back from Bucky. “It’s not for me” he repeated, calmly, collected despite the still-wet smudge of tears on his cheek. “The Gardener…” Steve’s face scrunched, caught in a sentence he couldn’t finish.

He sighed, mouth flattening in annoyance. “The Gardener is. Sad. In my head” he tapped his temple, then grimaced. “These aren’t right. The Gardener isn’t in my head, but… pieces. And it’s not _sad_ , it’s… penance. It’s penance. The Gardener is, is, _confessing_ -” Steve stopped, made a frustrated noise. He tried again.

“The Gardener is _confessing_ -” and Steve had his mouth open as if to say more, except no words came out. Bucky could see the moment he gave up, running a hand through his hair. “There’s no Creation for _words_ ” he muttered dejectedly.

“Oh, I’m uh, sorry” Mike said, and Bucky turned to glare. Why the _fuck_ was he still in the room?

Mike didn’t seem to pick up on the daggers being stared at him, eyes only on Steve with some kind of understanding on his face. “I didn’t realize there was sill, uh, mental damage from Slasher’s-”

That was enough.

Bucky moved without thinking, grabbing a handful of the scientist’s shirt and dragging him to the door, shoving him harshly out of the room. He kept going until he had him boxed up against the wall.

“Not a _word_ ” he growled. “Not one _hint_ of what you just saw gets out, do you understand?”

“I, uh, yes?” he stammered. “I’m, uh, still under the NDA you guys had me sign… I think?” Bucky growled again, and Mike quickly amended. “I mean, I am! Yeah, definitely still under NDA!”

“You can let him go, the whole staff is sworn to confidentiality here. Anything that happens in this building is classified, including what happens in the halls” Maria said behind him. Bucky slowly let go, backing away before he did something violent, because he was _this close_ to caving Mike’s teeth in. This guy wasn’t brawling in an alley, but he’d swung at Steve all the same, and Bucky would never stand there and let it happen.

Speaking of, he turned back to make sure Steve was okay.

While Maria had followed them out, the others had stuck with Steve, though there was little they could do. There were helpless looks all around, watching Steve as he was otherwise occupied with crouching to look more closely at the pictures he’d let fall to the floor. Should they comfort? Should they joke to ease off the tension? _Was_ there tension?

Steve had become an enigma, othered from the group.

Steve didn’t care. He was too busy in his own task. He picked up one of the images and stood, scrutinizing it. He flipped it around for them to see.

“This is here?” he asked, addressing Mike.

Mike looked at the picture of the beetle with confusion, still shaken from Bucky’s handling. “What?”

Steve tapped the image. “This is here? Inside?” He then pointed to the background behind the beetle, which looked to be a blurred-out wall.

“Oh! Yeah, we have a specimen lab with enclosures where we keep those and other, um, specimens”

Steve nodded. “You can give me there?” he asked.

The scientist’s brow furrowed for half a second before he interpreted Steve’s question. “Oh, well, if you have the clearance I can take you, and uh, you could answer some questions I have?”

Bucky nearly said no, seeing how Mike grasped his chance to take advantage of Steve’s presence, but then he actually put thought into it.

A sealed lab with bugs in cages was… not _safe_ , but safer than going to the source. Maybe it would be enough?

At worst it would delay their trip into the zone, and that alone was a good enough reason to go. Not that Bucky would’ve had much say with how excited Steve suddenly got, actually _smiling_ at the prospect.

“I guess we’re checking the lab again” Maria said.

* * *

Helen stared down at her tablet.

“Huh”

“Is there a problem Dr. Cho?” Jarvis asked.

“No, there’s no problem. These are just curious results”

“In what way?”

That was a good question.

“His mind’s making strange leaps to produce this level of complexity. All for a simple sentence too”

Nonetheless, he _did_ produce a sentence. Perhaps an intended one?

“Go through the recording of our session,” she instructed Jarvis, “tell me his exact words when I asked him to read his writing aloud”

“Would you like a playback or transcription?”

“Playback, please”

Steve’s voice came on speaker, heavy pauses between his fragmented speech.

“ _I… I… I am… I’m running?_ ”

Helen considered his words, and the words on her tablet. He’d used ‘ _running_ ’ several times to mean _alright_ or _fine_. To be healthy, content, or functional. It aligned with what was in front of her.

She’d need to test him again, have him type out more independent thoughts. If this proved fruitful, they might just have a way for Steve to communicate with meaningful language.

The next question, however, was _why_ this was happening. What in the world was causing him to produce _this?_

* * *

> REQUEST FROM CHO_HELEN, DOCTOR  
> AUTHORIZATION 438000005913123-MED
> 
> REQUEST FOR TEXT ANALYSIS:
> 
> “`b a c b e`
> 
> ` a c a a e b c b c e b c b b e b c b b e b c d a e `
> 
> `a c a a e b c b c e b c c b e b c d c e b c b b e`”
> 
> PROCESSING…
> 
> …
> 
> ANALYSIS COMPLETE
> 
> SUBSTITUTION CIPHER DETECTED  
> ATTEMPTING DECRYPTION…
> 
> PROCESSING…
> 
> DECRYPTION COMPLETE
> 
> BILATERAL SUBSTITUTION ARRAY USED  
> AUTHOR (BINARY_MATRIX)  
> TRANSLATING (BINARY)
> 
> MESSAGE ENCODED:
> 
> “`I FEEL FINE`”

Excerpt of Program Log from JARVIS_SYSTEM_LOG

  
(Sample of work by S. G. Rogers)


	22. Chapter 22

_Species 067  
_ _Official name: Novis entada suus  
_ _Laymen name: Springot_

_The springot is a long-stemmed, woody vine similar to plants of the liana variety. Unlike lianas, which are vine groups that use other structures such as trees or buildings as vertical supports to grow above the canopy, the springot acts as its own support using a dual-structure of growth._

_The violet-coloured plant creates a thick, sturdy vine that grows in a corkscrew pattern, with a wide circular base that slowly becomes smaller as it rises. This growth pattern ensures structural stability, as well as prevents overgrowing to an unfeasible height. Adult heights range from 1-2.5 metres tall._

_As it grows this corkscrew structure, a secondary vine grows alongside it, curling around the base structure as a support. These secondary vines are smaller, and produce offshoot tendrils that spread outwards and themselves produce even smaller fronds (leaves)._

_The completed growth of these plants appears conical, the inside of which is hollow and shielded from the sun and other elements. This hidden space is frequently used by other organisms for shelter._

_It is recommended to be cautious around such plants, as any kind of organism could be hidden within._

-Excerpt from page 114 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

They were inside the lab, and Bucky’s skin was crawling. It hadn’t been like this the first time, but he hadn’t exactly stuck around to really see what was happening around him. There were bugs everywhere, wall-to-wall racks of them. He could see some of them moving, especially the ones that skittered across the glass of their container. The thought of these things so close had him on edge.

Now that he was properly paying attention though, he saw the lab wasn’t as vulnerable as he’d thought.

A closer look showed the glass was reinforced with a fine mesh that would keep it intact despite shattering. Each tank had sliding mechanisms at their tops, presumably secured and escape-proof. Their bottoms were solid metal and bolted down with clamps, with the racks bolted permanently to the floor. A tornado couldn’t knock these things down.

It didn’t do much to ease his worry when Steve was practically putting his face right up against the sides though. His nose was a hairsbreadth from touching the glass as he studied the creatures inside one-by-one. Bucky stuck close by his side in case of… in case of anything, really.

Some tanks Steve glossed over with barely a glance, others he frowned at, and some he _tisked_ , like what he was seeing inside was offensive. On the odd occasion he’d stop and stare like he was enamored. Bucky suppressed a shiver as he watched Steve gently touch a tank with the tips of his fingers while a milky-white beetle the size of his palm charged at him, hitting the glass with a dull _thunk_.

Then there was Mike-

“-don’t take oxygen from the _air_ , but from their _food_ , and they store it in these special organs all over their body-”

-who’d followed them into the lab because he had access to it as well. More access than Maria, actually. Which meant she didn’t have the authority to kick him out.

Mike was trying to explain something he claimed was important, under the impression that he could convince them to let him to study Steve like he was one of the bugs in these tanks.

While Bucky shadowed Steve, everyone else stayed by the exit to keep Mike occupied and _away_ from Steve- and to stay as far away from the bugs as they could. All except Natasha, who was making her own rounds of ‘curious exploration’, all conveniently within striking range of the two researchers who’d already been here when they arrived.

The pair were trying their best to keep working without falling into the temptation of studying Steve as well, and if one of them happened to stare at Steve a little too long, Natasha would also happen to step in to block their view.

“-but they don’t just store oxygen in these organs, they also store _DNA_ ” Mike said excitedly, then paused like he was expecting gasps.

“My eyelashes store DNA, get to the point” Tony said, waving him on. His patience was thin, but Tony could at least understand enough science jargon to keep the guy talking, while Sam and Clint were more occupied scanning the room and keeping another set of eyes on Steve. Maria wasn’t even bothering with pretense, and instead took a leaning position by the door with a hand on her taser.

“But that’s the thing, they don’t store their own DNA, they stores _others’_. We’ve found all sorts of DNA; birds, squirrels, deer, trees, even fungus! These organisms metastasizes the DNA of whatever they’ve eaten and store it. And it’s not just a direct absorption: when a bug gets eaten by another bug, the consuming organism absorbs he stored data of its prey! It’s _data transfer!_ ”

“Fascinating” Tony said flatly.

“It _is_ ” Mike replied, not picking up on Tony’s boredom. “So you can see why Slasher would’ve targeted Captain Rogers specifically-”

_What._

“-his data must’ve traveled _up_ the food chain-”

“What” Bucky said. The others had heard the same thing Bucky had, and suddenly all eyes were on Mike.

“-and reached Slasher eventually, and it _has_ to have been the serum that caught its attention, I don’t see how else-”

“Stop, back it up for a sec,” Tony cut in, “what did you just say?”

“The serum must be what attracted Slasher-”

“Before that”

Mike blinked. “Oh, uh, his data traveled up the food chain-”

“What do you mean Steve’s data” Bucky growled, and oh, look at that, he was suddenly across the room. He had the scientist shoved up against a rack of bug tanks with his metal hand fisting his shirt collar.

“James” Natasha said as warning, and he shifted his shoulders to acknowledge he’d heard.

“I, uh, I mean his DNA. It’s, I, just-” he gulped, “Let me start form the beginning?”

Bucky didn’t let go right away, but Sam cleared his throat after a moment of silence, and Bucky released his hold.

Mike put some space between himself and the tanks. “So, uh, you remember the, uh, incident? The first one, when Captain Rogers stepped on an urchin?”

Bucky nodded. He remembered all too well.

“Well, his, his blood transferred to it. You, uh, you even confirmed it during our interview when, uh, when you said a quill pierced his foot. Now, I can’t prove this-”

One of the scientists at the back huffed, but a look from Natasha had her going quiet.

“-but _something_ must have eaten that urchin and absorbed his, uh, his blood and DNA. And, this is mostly theory since we don’t know exactly what ate that particular urchin, but there’s this parasite we call urchin fleas, and more than one could’ve come in contact with the blood, and then spread out. Or- or maybe something bigger ate it, then something even bigger ate that one, and so on and so forth. But, uh, I’m confident that there was enough dissemination in the food chain for it to eventually get to Slasher.

“And, I mean, we have human DNA taken from some insects, and a few match some of the, uh, victims, but some are still unknown, which is why we’re hoping to compare them with Captain Rogers’ to confirm this part of my theory. If his data’s been free-flowing in their system, it could, um, it could go a long way in proving this theory”

Bucky’s mind rushed back to that day when Steve collapsed. They’d pulled the bug off his boot and he’d paid no mind to it. Had he even seen any blood? If there was any, it had been negligible. Barely a drop, if that. He’d seen the small holes in Steve’s foot as they bandaged it, like someone had poorly stuck a needle several times before getting it right. It had been nothing.

And what had they done with the bug? They’d thrown it back into the forest, hadn’t they? Back with a little bit of Steve.

“… And you’re saying Slasher got a hold of Steve’s DNA, which made it want to eat him” Tony said skeptically, filling in the rest.

Mike nodded. “ _Yes_ , that’s exactly it. And okay, I can’t _prove_ any of this, studying Slasher is pretty much impossible, but it makes sense, doesn’t it? The whole ecosystem is a _system_ , a _data transfer system_. The shapes Slasher makes are obviously intelligent design, it has to factor somewhere in this system, right? Why not as an interpreter? Or a translator? What if it can read DNA, and, and _do something_ with it? What if it can _communicate it?_ ”

The frantic look Bucky had spotted earlier was back, and he didn’t care for it. He didn’t care for it one bit. What was he saying, that this was by design? That there was a mind to the thing that peeled the skin off living people? A consciousness? Because if that thing had a mind, then it was an insane one.

“And this is all theory?”

“It’s _sound_ theory. We already know there’s intelligent life in space, it’s- you guys have an alien on your team! Why can’t this be intelligent too? Just- just because we don’t understand it doesn’t mean it isn’t there!”

“Do you have any fingers?”

Steve had made his way back around to the group unnoticed, and his questions, apropos of nothing, caught just about everyone off guard; including himself. His face scrunched like he’d sucked on a lemon.

“It’s… not fingers, but fing-” Steve cut himself off, pissed. “I don’t mean fingers, but when I try to say _fingers_ I only say fingers- _gah!_ ” Steve spat and threw his hands in he air.

There was a beat

“… gloves…?” Tony guessed hesitantly.

“No, it’s, it’s fingers. You know” Steve wiggled his fingers, like he was typing at a keyboard.

“A computer?”

Steve frowned and looked down at his hands, closing them into fists. “No”

He turned and searched the room with his eyes, landing on the nearby lab equipment. He reached out and grabbed a rubber hose and yanked it off the nozzle it had been attached to. He held the tube up like it was a dead snake and waved it.

“This, but small. And, a lot. It’s one of the congregation” he said, motioning to the racks of insects.

Mike’s eyes widened and he snapped his fingers in realization. “Oh! Worms!”

Steve mirrored Mike’s stance, a grin splitting his face. “Yes! Worms!”

_Worms?_

“You guys don’t want those” one of the researchers piped up in warning. They hadn’t bothered pretending not to eavesdrop- the lab didn’t exactly leave much for privacy inside.

“No, it’s, it’s fine. It’s not a problem” Mike said dismissively.

“You need unanimous approval from the whole team to access that specimen tank, and the security codes from the two project heads just to open the cabinet, nevermind the tank”

“I wasn’t going to suggest accessing them!” he sniped. “All I meant is we can still view the specimens. The cabinet’s transparent- we can go take a look right now”

“Yes” Steve nodded enthusiastically.

Mike moved to take them, but Bucky caught his arm before he could get very far. He leveled the scientist with a glare, not in the mood for games and half-explanations. “What’s the deal with these worms, and why are they locked up separate?” He was still reeling from the new information, and he didn’t like how fast they were moving from the topic.

“Oh, uh, they’re piranha worms, you would’ve seen them in the warning packets for zone explorations. They’re, uh, the blue worms. You know, the ones that, uh, liquefy what they eat”

Bucky’s mouth twitched in a half sneer of disgust. Oh yes, he remembered the worms now; they were the second deadliest thing in the zone after Slasher. The packet they gave everyone who entered included the image of a melted pig’s corpse to show what these things could do.

“How secure are they?”

“They’re in the same secured tanks as the rest of the specimens, but we put them in a second secured cabinet that needs keycodes to open, otherwise it’s locked with magnetic deadbolts. We feed them remotely with controlled mechanisms” the other researcher explained.

Bucky thought about it for a second. He turned to Steve. “What’s so important about these worms?”

“I need…” Steve hesitated, glanced at the tanks and back, “I need to see if it’s demon seed”

Bucky nodded and let go of the scientist. They’d look, that wasn’t unreasonable, but this conversation about Slasher wasn’t over. He had more questions, though he’d hold off for now.

Mike took them to the back of the lab where a set of metal cabinets lay. The other two researcher didn’t follow, but they certainly shifted around their table to keep the group in their view. The others accompanied at a distance, casting uncomfortable glances at the bugs they past.

Mike brought them to a metal cabinet that didn’t appear to be locked, but then he opened the door to reveal a second set of doors, clear and sealed shut with interlocking mechanisms. Beyond those doors was a single tank.

The tank was smaller than the rest with no dirt packed inside, making it appear especially sterile. There was only the bare glass for the worms to writhe across. Other than the faint slime smudges the worms left, the tank was pristine.

They were like the ones in the pictures Bucky had seen: normal earth worms but blue. It was like a strange sideshow attraction, disgusting yet entrancing. Steve crouched down to get eye-level with them, close enough that his breath fogged the glass.

The worms were coiled together in a constantly shifting glob. The whole thing moved as a single unit, like a creature made of many. It crawled parallel alongside one of the walls until it hit a corner, then turned on a dime and moved at a diagonal, until it hit a wall again. It was like an animal pacing its cage and testing the perimeter.

“This one’s a mass of, uh, thirty-seven. They eat about four pounds of raw meat a day” Mike explained. “There’s an irrigation system in there to wash away the leftovers, otherwise it-”

Steve’s arm pulled back, hand in a fist.

“- would look like butcher’s floor-”

Bucky’s eyes widened.

_Don’t._

“- in there with how much they tear apart-”

Bucky lunged to grab Steve’s arm just as he started to swing.

He was too late.

  
(Figure. 7: Broken outer door of enclosure #002-A, cleaned)


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for worms, see end notes for specifics.

_Species 033  
_ _Official name: Novis eruendi punctatum  
_ _Laymen name: Woodworm_

_The woodworm, similar to the silkworm, was first thought to be the larval stage of another organism, but closer studies have found it to be its own unique species. They appear as a basic larvae, but their vibrant green-orange striped pattern makes them easily identified, as can their large size, varying from 10-20 cm in length, and typical widths of 3-4 cm._

_The woodworm is a burrowing organism that feeds on a wide variety of scavenged materials, including dead wood-pulp, roots, fungus, and other decomposing material. They can be found burrowing inside dead trees, tunneling into the earth, and even making headway into boulders. They continually tunnel forward, leaving behind a network of passageways for other organisms to use as shelters or nests._

_We have deemed the_ _woodworm_ _to pose m_ _oderate_ _threat to the environment_ _due to their tunneling habits which both harms the native_ _ecosystem_ _and provides protection for other Seed-native species. Fortunately, woodworms are rare and appear only within a 1,000 km radius of the Seed, and are unlikely to spread beyond the border._

-Excerpt from page 76 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

Steve punched through the cabinet door in a single swing. The glass cracked and bent inwards as Steve’s fist broke through the center. Thank fuck, thank _fuck_ he hadn’t gotten to the tank itself.

Steve shoved in deeper, all the way to the elbow before Bucky had an arm under each shoulder and pulled him back.

Steve shouted in protest and fought his grip, trying to shove him off with his free arm. Then Steve hissed, actually _hissed_ , as the others got in to help. Sam and Clint each grabbed hold, and together they hauled Steve away from the broken glass. The shards caught on his arm as it came out and left deep, bloody scrapes.

“ _Let me out!_ ” Steve shouted, pissed to high hell and thrashing in their grip. It was like holding on to a bull, and Bucky was doing most of the work. Steve wasn’t even paying attention to the other two, all his focus on breaking Bucky’s hold.

Clint got unlucky and caught a foot to the stomach when Steve sent him flying back against another cabinet. Sam was thrown to the ground by an errant elbow to the side of the face, and Tony jumped in to pull Sam out of striking range.

Steve was like a wild animal, but Bucky was no amateur and he wasn’t playing. He still had his arms under each of Steve’s shoulders, and he brought up both hands behind Steve’s neck, forcing Steve’s arms out. Once he had Steve in a full Nelson hold, he locked his metal arm, ensuring a solid clasp.

A yank, and shift, a little leverage, and they were tilting backwards. Bucky hit the ground and took the brunt of Steve’s weight, but he’d been braced for it. A sharp pain still echoed up his chest as it jarred his ribs, but he could take it. Then he brought his legs up and around Steve’s waist, and it was done.

Steve struggled a second longer, but quickly stopped when he realized Bucky had him in a steady hold. Both of them were breathing hard, and Steve was sweating. This close, Bucky could feel the heat coming off him like a furnace.

There was a dual whine, and Bucky angled his head to just barely see both Natasha and Maria standing over them from a safe distance, their respective bites and taser gun aimed at Steve. They weren’t firing, but it was good to know he had backup.

“Is Sam okay?” Bucky then asked. He’d gone down hard with that hit to the head.

“I’m good… might have small concussion though?” Sam answered dazedly from somewhere to his left, but Steve’s head was blocking his view.

“I’m fine too” Clint groaned tightly, “just, you know, might vomit”

“… Sorry” Steve murmured between breaths that he struggled to take. Bucky’s hold had his head bent forward as far as it could go, making inhaling just a little harder, but he wasn’t about to loosen his grip now.

“You done?” Bucky asked.

Steve swallowed.

“ _Are you done?_ ”

Steve didn’t answer.

“Steve, if I let you up will you try to get at those worms again?”

Still no answer.

“ _Steve_ ”

“ _I have Solution!_ ” Steve spat. He kicked his legs almost petulantly, which only managed to rock the two of them.

There was silence. Steve’s blood slowly dripped down his arm and into the creases of Bucky’s prosthetic.

“Nat, I’ve got a sedative-”

“ _No_ ” Steve protested, putting up a new fight.

“- in my right belt pocket. You can inject it at-”

Bucky couldn’t finish his sentence though, because Steve had stopped flailing and started using his training for once, which forced Bucky to shift focus back on restraining him. Steve brought his arms down with full strength, and on a normal person that would’ve been enough to break the grip. Bucky was no normal person.

Unfortunately, neither was Steve.

Bucky was the one executing the hold, but Steve was the one exerting the force, and the way he was leveraging against Bucky’s arms bent his neck even further. Bucky could see the muscles there strain as Steve fought to keep his head up despite his own power pushing it forward. If this kept up there’d be ligament damage. A little more and he’d snap bone.

Was Steve crazy enough to break his own neck?

_Jesus Fucking Christ._

Bucky let go. He intended to move into a chokehold, but Steve shifted forward and elbowed him in the throat, making Bucky choke on air. It was enough of a distraction to get out from between his legs, and then Steve was lunging at the cabinet again.

The snap of a taser discharging cut through the air, and Steve fell to his knees. He bent over with his forehead almost touching the ground as his muscles contracted. He made a gut-bunched sound as the air was squeezed out of his lungs. For a moment it looked like he might try to get up, but then a twinned burst of Natasha’s widow’s bite had him falling on his side.

Bucky scrabbled to open the clip at his belt where the sedative Cho had given him lay nestled. Even as he got the syringe out and uncapped, Steve had yanked the prongs of the taser out from his bicep with shaking hands, and he was moving to grab the bites embedded at his thigh.

As soon as he had the prongs out Natasha was on him, wrapping her body around his and swinging herself to roll him away from the cabinet. It was a delaying tactic, but it worked. Though Steve tossed her off and into a still-recovering Clint, she’d succeeded in getting him a little further from his goal.

It was the time Bucky needed to get close. The needle was primed and ready, he just needed to get it in. He hurled himself at Steve, aiming for the neck, and brought the needle down-

-Steve’s arm shot _out_ -

-the needle went _in_ -

-and knocked Bucky’s arm _away-_

-before he could depress the plunger.

Bucky had bet his balance on that move, which left him off kilter and falling on his side, unable to get up and grab Steve in time. He was helpless to stop Steve as he lurched for the cabinet. Everyone was yelling something, exclamations of _No!_ and _Don’t!_ and _Wait!_

Steve was a locomotive on a mission. He thrust his arm through the hole with the force of his whole body, following through into the tank. He broke through the second layer of glass, shoving his hand directly into the mass of worms.

A painful wheeze punched out of Bucky’s throat as he watched. There was nothing else for him to do, gazing through the clear, cracked glass that had tracks of blood dripping down where Steve had cut himself.

Bile tickled the back of his throat as he saw the worms reach upwards for Steve’s open palm, penetrating through the skin. He could _hear_ the sound of them breaking through flesh, like a wet finger against rubber.

They crawled with fervor, up and in, up and in, one after another.

In the blink of an eye they were gone. Up and in and gone.

In their wake was an outpouring of blood. Like a faucet on low, pooling wider, dripping, sopping, falling in chunks like ground meat as they tunneled in and pushed out the broken flesh as an afterthought.

“ _Oh God_ ” someone moaned. The sound of retching was heard. The sound of gagging from somewhere else.

Steve pulled his arm out, trailing bloody pulp along the way, and sat down hard. He leaned back against the broken cabinet, his legs splayed loosely like he just collapsed from a marathon. The silence was horrific.

Steve looked around, and his mouth twitched as he took in the room. He snickered, which turned into a giggle which turned into a laugh, and he quickly covered his mouth with the back of his bloody hand.

He turned to Bucky, mirthful and exuberant. Blood smeared his chin. The syringe was still protruding from the muscle of his neck, a miracle the needle hadn’t snapped off. A testament to failure.

He stretched his hand out, shredded palm facing outward for Bucky to gaze upon in all its awfulness.

“See? It’s for Solution!”

* * *

> Lab Injury Report
> 
> Name: Steven G. Rogers (guest) 
> 
> Injury (specify): Left arm cut. Internal specimen infestation in left arm. 
> 
> Source of Injury: **Misuse of Equipment** Faulty Equipment **Contact with Specimen  
> ** Contact with Harmful Substance Other (specify):
> 
> Mechanism of Injury: Punched through secured container, placed arm inside piranha worm tank. 
> 
> To be Completed by Medical Staff
> 
> Triaged by: Dr. Hilda Forsman, MD; Kent Sullivan, NP
> 
> Diagnosis: Deep lacerations to left arm. Severe trauma to palm of left hand. Deep tissue and musculature damage to left arm. Parasitic worm infestation in left arm (piranha worms, approx. 37). Unknown internal trauma.
> 
> Treatment: Arm debrided and cleaned. Attempted removal of parasites, unsuccessful. Cuts covered and wrapped in sterile gauze.
> 
> Recommendation: Immediate evacuation to hospital emergency room for further treatment, patient should be quarantined due to alien contamination.
> 
> Additional Notes: Infestation appears atypical- previous cases have shown piranha worms to continually consume flesh to the point of amputation as only viable solution, however, patient appears stable. Worms do not appear to be burrowing further than deep tissue of the arm and do not appear to be feeding on patient beyond initial penetration.
> 
> Recommendation to evacuate to hospital was ignored against medical advise.
> 
> Patient was administered unknown sedatives prior to arriving at infirmary by Sergeant James Barnes.

-Excerpt of Lab Injury Report from the Harriman Research Facility

  
(Figure. 15: Syringe used on Captain Rogers, cleaned)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: the worms go inside Steve's arm.


	24. Chapter 24

_While the Seed’s influence has altered the terrestrial ecosystem, the aquatic ecosystems seems largely unaffected. There is a distinct lack of aquatic Seed-native organisms and vegetation, and the lack of alien microbes ensures no biological contamination in any of the lakes and rivers._

_Oxygen levels within lakes remain normal due to aquatic plant oxygenation and is unaffected by the black lilacs (see page 63)._

_Water samples have found the chemical balance in these lakes to contain higher quantities of calcium. This in turn has raised the alkalinity of the environment. Though these levels are outside the ideal range of comfort, and the more sensitive individuals have succumbed to the stressors of this sudden change, many aquatic species continue to thrive._

-Excerpt from page 3 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

Back and forth, back and forth, Bucky was pacing by the gurney they had Steve lie in. Bucky had managed to finish the injection of sedative, late as it was, but they hadn’t taken effect like they should’ve. Steve was only half-stoned when he should’ve been out like a light.

How had this happened? Why, _why_ did Steve do that? Why hadn’t the sedative worked all the way? Why hadn’t the worms turned his arm into pulp? _Why were they still here and not at the tower doing something about it?_

Back and forth he paced.

The on-staff doctors had tried their best to patch up Steve’s arm after a laughably pathetic attempt to pull the worms out with tweezers. He’d gotten no satisfaction from the doctor’s skittishness as she worked. She jumped at every twitch of his fingers, and clearly she didn’t want to be as close as she was, but he admired her dedication to stick it out for her patient’s sake.

Steve had been no help in the matter as he kept pulling his arm away and weakly swatted at the doctor while she worked. At least he’d let her clean and bandage the wounds when she was done. He’d been especially passive as they wiped the blood off his face and removed his stained vest and shirt, replacing it with a short gown.

After she finished, there’d been worry as Steve groused about _solution_ and tried to leave, and Bucky just _knew_ restraints would not be taken well, but what other choice was there? Then hope of all hope, Clint had saved the day with his phone and the dozens of games he had on that thing. It was enough to keep Steve occupied in his stupor as he blearily tapped at the screen one-handed.

They had maybe another thirty minutes before Steve burned through the last of the drugs and got his wits about him, and then they’d be fighting him again. There was no way he was going into the zone now, not with worms in his arm. Not when they didn’t know what those worms were doing in there. They needed to move him, but they were facing the problem of _not being allowed to leave_.

Someone had decided that Steve needed to stay, and they’d even been subtle about it at first. None of them had put much thought into why Maria had gotten called away, too busy focused on Steve. When the doctor and nurse hightailed it after they finished, well, who wouldn’t want a few minutes to clear their head after dealing with _that?_

Then security started to trickle in. Natasha had gone on alert, which signaled for Bucky and Clint to do the same, but by then it was too late.

There were two guards in the infirmary, and another two outside of it, and four more lining the halls, all armed with tasers. Of course the _rest_ of the Avengers were free to leave, the guards had made that abundantly clear, but they sure liked throwing around the words _quarantine_ and _biohazard_ when asked if Steve could leave too. And the real rub was Bucky and the others couldn’t do much about it.

Without Maria, they didn’t have the codes to open the outer doors, and security wouldn’t be any help there. They could break Steve out forcibly, but that would be seen as an act of terrorism. It wouldn’t be Bucky’s first though, and more and more he was finding himself willing to take the risk.

He didn’t get much time to consider it though. By the sound of people coming down the hall and how the guards stood a little straighter, they were about to have some company of note. Maybe, _maybe_ , they could talk their way out.

The door opened and three people in lab coats entered, one of which was Mike. They were escorted by additional soldiers.

The lead scientist stepped forward, addressing them as a group with a formal smile. “Hi, I’m Dr. Harrison. These are my associates, Dr. Hu, and you’ve already met Dr. Sabos” he indicated to the woman to his right and then Mike who was beside her. He had a pinched look, and his eyes kept drifting to Steve.

“I understand you have some questions. We realize the situation’s not ideal-”

Tony scoffed. “Yeah, something like that”

“-but we’ve made a decision for the general safety of the public that Captain Rogers should remain here for the time being”

Bucky wasn’t surprised, but the words still grated.

“And under whose authority has this been decided, exactly?” Sam asked.

“It was a majority decision among the department heads of Research and Security, of which includes the United States Military and representatives of the UN Security Council. We are authorized to detain all alien organisms from the Occupied Zone, including any human hosts they may be using”

Natasha raised a brow. “Is this based on precedence?”

Now that was a loaded question. Had this happened before?

Harrison gave a hollow smile. “We have contingencies for a wide array of scenarios, this is just one of them. We’ve already had several deceased kept in our secured facilities for this exact reason”

Bucky’s mouth twitched in a sneer. Steve wasn’t a _dead body_.

“This is the first time we’ve had to do it for a living individual of course, though we have a set protocol for this scenario as well” he went on as if reading Bucky’s anger.

“Why don’t you walk us through this protocol,” Tony said as he motioned with his hand, “because I’d love to know why it includes keeping Rogers prisoner instead of getting him medical treatment”

“I assure you we’ll provide the best treatment we can. Our staff doctor described him as stable- _and recommended moving him to a hospital_ ,” he added quickly to cut off Tony’s impending protest, “which we chose to _ignore_. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the worms he came in contact with, but they pose a very serious threat.

“His actions have proven that he’s dangerous. You all saw how he purposefully exposed himself. We cannot risk him exposing others, which means he’s in quarantine until we can remove the infestation. We’re already stretching the rules by letting you stay with him, but we’re willing to continue to allow you access provided you let us do our job”

Bucky sucked on his teeth. As much as he wanted for this guy to be some power-hungry maniac- which he still may well be- the fact of the matter was that he was laying down an unfortunate truth: Steve _was_ a flight hazard, he _was_ a risk, and he’d proven he would get violent if he needed to.

Whether there was or wasn’t more to these people keeping him was besides the point, because those worms shouldn’t be taken into the city. Conversely, Steve couldn’t be kept _here_ either- it was an escape just waiting to happen. Non-ideal as it was, the tower was the better place for him. At least there they had a quarantine room that could hold him.

Sam crossed his arms. “And how’s that gonna work? This ain’t exactly a hospital”

“We’re aware of our limited medical facilities, but rest assured that we _are_ prepared to handle this, we just… need time to, _ahem_ , move the equipment”

“Move it from where?” Tony asked, suspicion laden in his voice.

“… From the morgue”

Bucky closed his eyes.

_From the morgue._

Because this sort of thing didn’t happen to anyone alive.

Because if it did, they didn’t survive long anyway.

Tony swore under his breath, and the others weren’t taking the news with much more enthusiasm.

Dr. Hu tried to reassure them. “We’re sterilizing the tools as we speak, there won’t be risk any cross-contamination- oh. Um”

Her explanation derailed as Steve stood from the bed, attracting everyone’s attention. Bucky and Sam were closest, and they both reached out to steady him when he swayed, still a little groggy.

“Hey pal, how about you sit back down?” Bucky tried gently, slating the problem with the lab monkeys aside for now. If Steve was trying to make his escape, he wouldn’t be getting far, but that would only hold true for so long. He needed to nip this in the bud as soon as possible.

“No, no, I have, I’ve got Solution, Buck. It’s Solution” he mumbled. He shook his head slowly like he was trying to clear it. “But this is for you” he added, and clumsily pushed Clint’s phone against Bucky’s chest.

Bucky instinctively caught the phone as Steve let it drop carelessly, and he tucked it in his pocket for now. Clint could get it back later.

“You’ll have solution tomorrow too, right now you oughtta take a breather. You can hardly stand”

“Nah, it’s… I’m called. Calling” he said, and he raised his infested arm like he was drunkenly hailing a cab. His fingers twitched spasmodically, the tips turned a sickly yellow where they peeked out of the bandaging. He swayed and leaned more of his weight onto Bucky, and _wow_ , was he burning up. This close, Bucky could see the sweat beading on his forehead. There was no fever in his eyes though, only the faint fog of sedation.

“If you would take a seat Captain, we have an imaging device that can better see where the worms are, and we can begin work to remove them” Hu offered, and Bucky shot her a venomous look.

Steve bared his teeth. “I’m _running_ , it’s _Solution!_ You’re not taking the, the…” he blew out a frustrated breath through his teeth, “… _No._ Just no” he said with finality.

“I’m sorry, but this is a mandatory procedure for both your safety and those around you-”

“What do you mean you’re calling?” Mike interrupted, looking worried.

Steve waved vaguely at the far wall. “I’m calling. I have Solution for the Gardener, so I called with the, the, uh…” he lifted his arm again and wiggled his fingers, “You know?”

“But what do you mean you’re _calling?_ ” he asked with more urgency.

“ _This is not the time-_ ” Harrison hissed at the same time Hu bit out “You _said_ you’d be professional-”, both under their breath so only Mike would hear, though they weren’t exactly being subtle at their annoyance.

Mike turned to them, “No! _No_ , you’ve all doubted my theories but we’re _well_ past the time for questioning. _This man_ ,” he pointed at Steve, “shoved his arm into a tank of piranhas and _didn’t die._ He’s encountered Slasher and _didn’t die._ He’s been producing the exact same language as these things, so clearly there’s something happening. And now he’s saying he’s _calling Slasher_ and I don’t know if you understand the implications of that, but if it means what I think it means then you’ll _let me_ _ask these questions_ _!_ ”

Mike was breathing hard and turned back to Steve, his colleagues struck silent at the outburst. Bucky tightened his grip.

“What do you mean you’re calling Slasher?” he asked again, his intensity barely contained.

Steve tisked, and his mouth ticked in annoyance. “I’m calling the Gardener _here_ ” he pointed down and _oh_. Bucky froze, taking in those words.

_Jesus, no._

“It’s- these are the right words,” Steve went on, running his healthy hand through his damp hair, “I’m not saying it wrong. I’m calling the-”

All the radios on the accompanying soldier’s belts went off.

“ _Immediate all channels! This is L-G-Seven-Oh-Nine, confirmed approach Sierra to base HRF! I say again: confirmed approach Sierra to base HRF!_ ”

The crackled alert had everyone in the room stiffening. Anyone who was working in or around the zone had memorized the key code phrases, Avengers included, and they all knew what this meant.

 _HRF_ for the Harriman Research Facility. The building they were inside of.

 _Sierra_ for Slasher.

Steve’s call had been answered.

  
(Slasher sighting, movement confirmed towards base HRF. Image captured by drone)


	25. Chapter 25

_Species 070  
_ _Official name: Novis dryopteris filix-mas  
_ _Laymen name: Wood Fern_

 _The wood fern is named such for its startling similarity to Earth’s dryopteris, a fern of t_ _he_ _Dryopteridaceae_ _family (also known as the wood fern, male fern, or buckler fern), a common species found_ _in most of the northern hemisphere._

_In physical appearance it is near identical to its Earth-native counterpart, with a major visual difference being its orange colouring. Individuals grow no larger than 0.5 metres tall. The wood fern is a popular meal choice for many of the herbivorous organisms in the Occupied Zone._

_Another major difference from its Earth-native cousin, however, is its reactive seismonastic ability. Damage to its leaves and stems cause no reaction, however, when the base rootstocks are touched by even the barest force, the whole plant curls protectively into a ball._

_This response to touch does not seem to serve any defensive purpose, as the roots remain exposed and open to further damage._

-Excerpt from page 117 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

Bucky pulled Steve closer and instinctively reached for the gun that wasn’t at his hip. A second later and the overhead speakers came on.

“ _Attention all staff, retreat to safe rooms in_ _S_ _ection C. This is not a drill, retreat to safe rooms in_ _S_ _ection C_ ”

Already they could hear commotion outside in the hall. The soldiers inside the infirmary moved to the door.

“We need all of you to follow us to Section C” one of them said as the rest took position to escort them.

“We can’t move Captain Rogers, he’s in quarantine!” Harrison said, not without some distress.

“That doesn’t matter, all staff and guests need to be moved to the safe rooms. We can isolate him there” he explained as the soldiers started herding the scientists out.

“What we need to do is get him out of here” Mike said as he pushed past and stayed in the room. “He’s the once signaling Slasher here, we need to move him as far from the base as possible!”

Steve perked. “Outside?”

“No” Bucky quickly answered. His heart was beating in his throat. All this talk of Slasher and the impending arrival, he couldn’t let it get to him. He couldn’t let it get to Steve.

“Yes _outside_ , you want it getting in here?!” Mike sputtered.

One of the soldiers grabbed Mike’s arm in an attempt to shuffle him out. “We have this place secured, nothing’s getting in-”

“ _Haha!_ Oh, that’s funny, you’re goddamn hilarious” he mocked. “It’s _Slasher_ , we’ve seen it tear open _tanks_. You think these wall can keep it out?!”

Bucky had seen it crush metal shipping crates like they were paper. This whole building was hardly going to be a challenge for it.

“The jet!” Tony exclaimed from behind them.

“What?”

“We get Steve to the quinjet before it gets here. If Steve’s the homing beacon then we can lure it away”

“Where do we go? If it can sense him from this far, what’s to say it doesn’t follow us?” Clint pointed out.

“Then we hover and figure it out. It’s not like we’re rolling in options right now!”

As if to emphasize his point, there was a deep and resounding _boom!_ from outside, muffled through the layers of walls. The first line of defense had begun. Slasher had arrived.

That decided it. Bucky shifted his grip and pulled Steve’s healthy arm over his shoulder to support his weight. “We’re going to the jet” he said, leaving no room for argument.

That didn’t stop the soldiers assigned to them. “Sir, we can’t let you to leave. All guests need to move to the safe rooms-”

“Yeah, we stopped being guests as soon as that alert went out” Natasha said as she moved ahead with Clint. “We’re here as emergency provisional support now. Security Level One access”

Another time and Bucky would’ve smirked at the inept looks the soldiers were sharing, but he wasn’t in the mindset to care. They needed to get _out_ and _away_.

He pulled Steve along as he followed behind the opening his teammates had made while Sam and Tony flanked them at the rear. The unsteady cascade of artillery fire could be heard distantly, which meant it was far too close to the building. Dozens of eyes followed them as they went, but nobody stopped them and that’s all that mattered. Until they got to the door.

“Any of you gonna open this?” Clint asked the soldiers standing guard.

“… We technically can’t let you leave” the one said, his eyes cutting to Steve briefly. Steve, whose skin had gone pink and whose high temperature was starting to make Bucky sweat where their skin touched.

“You didn’t hear what I said?” Natasha challenged. “Security Level One access boys, they’re gonna need us outside”

“You only get that if we call you for assistance” a voice with authority called to them from the opposite hall, his boots making heavy steps as he approached. They all turned to see a senior officer, either called here by one of the grunts or decided to get involved when he heard the Avengers were on site. “You folks came as guests, you’re gonna be treated as guests until we say so”

“I’m sorry, are you telling me you have this handled?” Tony asked. Again, another explosion sounded outside, close enough to feel the vibrations through the floor.

“I’m saying you have no authority here” the unnamed officer sneered. His chin was raised in challenge, his hand rested on the taser at his waist.

“Buck?” Steve asked, turning to him. “We’re outside- we’re… we’re out not? Outside not now?”

His skin had gone fully flushed now, and his gown was starting to turn damp with sweat. The heat just kept rolling off him in waves.

Bucky put on his most reassuring smile. “Almost pal, we’re working on it. Just hold on to me, okay? I’ll get us home”

Steve nodded. He raised his infested hand, a single finger pointing upward and twirled in a circle. “‘Round she goes then” he tittered with a small laugh. Bucky had to look away, just for a second.

Tony had gotten in the face of the soldier stopping them, Natasha moved to his side to back him up, talking about access and precedence and emergency protocols or whatever. Bucky had tuned them out.

Sam sidled up to them slowly, then subtly leaned in to whisper. “He doing okay?” he asked, indicating Steve, whose attention had listed off to his bandaged hand. He kept opening and closing it in a fist.

“I don’t know, but we need to get him to Cho” he whispered back.

_Click._

The unmistakable sound of the secured door unlocking sounded. The people arguing hadn’t caught it, but Bucky had. He turned to see what- oh.

_You’re kidding me._

It was Mike.

Mike, who’d snuck around unnoticed and opened the door with his own codes.

“You need to _leave!_ ” he hushed urgently, motioning for Bucky to hurry through the open doorway with Steve. The soldiers on either side of the door were conflicted on what to do, and that indecision afforded Bucky his shot. He didn’t bother to wait for the response of the others; he was given an opening and he was taking it.

He rushed through with Steve, ignoring the shouted protests from whoever had spotted them. He reached out with his free hand as they went through and grabbed a hold of Mike on their way out.

God help him, he’d need this man’s help.

* * *

Interview Subject: James Buchanan Barnes, SGT. [JB]  
Interviewer(s): Marcus Samuel Dombroski [MD]

[Begin Transcript 00:00:03]

MD: What elements of the situation factored in to your decision to leave the facility?

[extended pause]

MD: Why did you feel it necessary to remove Captain Rogers from the safety of the premises?

[extended pause]

MD: Sergeant Barnes, we can’t move forward with this investigation unless you cooperate.

[pause]

MD: I’m going to call a ten minute break, but sir, we need your statements for the record.

[Transcript paused at 00:07:01]

* * *

[Transcript resumes at at 00:07:08]

MD: What made you decide to remove Captain Rogers from the premises?

[pause]

JB: My reasons didn’t matter-

MD: -We need your full statement-

JB: -Let me finish God damn it.

* * *

He slammed the door closed behind them, which meant they had a few seconds before anybody got that door open again. It was the time they needed for a head-start.

“You can, uh, just drop me here, I don’t really need to, uh, come along for this” Mike stammered as he was forced to follow. His plan to let them out clearly hadn’t included joining them for the ride, which was rich coming from him. Now that his life was at stake he suddenly didn’t _want_ to be up in Steve’s business.

“You’ve got the codes to get us out pal, you’re stuck with us ‘til the front door” Bucky grit out, shoving him at the next checkpoint they needed to get through. It was blessedly deserted of any guards, as were the next three. Mike’s hands shook at each door, but he got them open regardless. As they moved along, Bucky made sure they all re-sealed behind them.

Then all too fast they were at the front, past the abandoned security check they’d entered from. Bucky dropped Mike there, shoving him away with an offhanded _thanks_ that lacked any gratitude. The vulture had served his purpose and he was done with him.

He and Steve stepped out and immediately halted, the scene in front of them… alarming. Terrifying.

Military vehicles had pulled up in a wide line to fire their heavy weapons, their bullets and explosives all aimed at a singular target.

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of Slasher again. Its size caught him off-guard still, how it towered twice as tall as the Humvees blocking it from the building. Except they weren’t really blocking it, were they? Blocking would imply some attempt to get through.

At first impression it might look like it, how it would get close only to turn away, like all those explosions and artillery were actually making a difference- but Bucky started to see a trivially obvious pattern to the movements, and goddamn it. God-fucking-damn it.

It was running in circles. The soldiers and their guns were doing fuck-all, they didn’t even leave a mark. If he looked hard enough, he could even make out the ring where its movements had carved a path in the upturned dirt with its concentric circles. A platoon of men shooting at a dog chasing its own tail.

A callback of Steve’s words came to mind. The twirl of his finger. _‘Round she goes then._

And around it went.

Bucky’s eyes widened. “…you’re controlling it” Bucky whispered to himself in shock. He turned to Steve, saw his lazy smile, watching Slasher like he was fond of the thing. Bucky went over the facts.

Steve had called, and it came.

Bucky said it would take time to get outside, so Steve told it to run in circles- no, he’d told it to _wait_ , and here it was waiting.

Now Steve was outside and Slasher was hardly fifty yards away.

He could connect the dots from there.

“No you fucking don’t” Bucky said hastily, leaning over and hoisting Steve up and across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, ignoring Steve’s noise of protest. The jet was a hundred yards in the opposite direction and, carrying Steve, Bucky could make that distance in seven seconds.

Steve started putting up what was maybe supposed to be a fight, but it came out as nothing more than a bad attempt to fall off Bucky’s shoulders, and wasn’t that telling? The sedative should’ve been out of his system by now, which meant this was something else. Something to do with the sudden fever maybe. He needed to get Steve to a real doctor before this got any worse.

With that in mind, he shot off. He just needed to make it to the jet, open the launch doors, get Steve inside and take off. They’d fly at top speed and reach the tower in no time. Cho would be notified and ready for them by the time they arrived. Ready with something to help, and then Steve would be okay.

Of course, that’s not how it went.

  
(Seed-native wood fern (right) and Earth-native wood fern (left), comparison)


	26. Chapter 26

_Efforts have been made to dissuade Earth-native organisms from entering the Occupied Zone, including scented spray deterrents and ultrasonic emitters placed along the outer border. Increased human activity from patrols and outposts have also aided in deterring larger wildlife, such as deer and coyotes._

_There is still an issue of smaller wildlife, such as rodents, insects, and birds continuing to enter the Occupied Zone. The inherent alien nature of the area does not seem to discourage local wildlife on its own, and many seem unaware of the suffocation hazard until it is too late- particularly birds, who will have no issue flying above the tree-line, only to suffocate when they land._

_Few Earth-native organisms survive their time in the Occupied Zone, either dying of suffocation or falling prey to alien organisms._

_Initial purging of local wildlife when the Seed first started propagation was swift, as hunter beetle (see page 16), piranha worm (see page 15), and Slasher (see page 12) in particular preyed on the wildlife in excess._

_Since the saturation of Seed-native organisms, there has been a sharp decrease of local wildlife deaths as fewer animals cross the border. Bird populations still continue to decline drastically however, and efforts are being made with local conservation groups to protect vulnerable species._

-Excerpt from page 4 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

[Transcript 00:09:24]

JB: My reasons don’t matter because there was nothing preventable about this. That thing’s unstoppable. You fire missiles and it’ll come out of that fresh as daisies. You put it up against a tank and it’ll rip it open like a candy bar.

We both know it would’ve busted through the walls to get at Steve, it didn’t matter if he was inside or out. All I did was save some of the cleanup.

MD: You don’t think there was any possible way to save Captain Rogers?

JB: No. He was dead as soon as we got there.

* * *

Bucky didn’t even make it halfway before Slasher broke through the line of jeeps, and then it was in front of him, faster than the blink of an eye. Bucky ground to a halt and took a step back. Slasher’s back end coiled behind it from side to side like an irate cat, cutting them off completely from the jet. Its front reared upwards, and Bucky’s stomach dropped at the sight of its mouth.

Every surface was covered in sharpened teeth that glistened black, funneling down into the gullet like a lamprey’s mouth. Protruding between the folds of its layered jaw were appendages ending in what could only be described as torture instruments, with claws or hooks or sawed ridges, some as big as his arm and others so small he couldn’t even see where they ended.

In the crevices he caught familiar flashes of blue- worms, the same that had burrowed into Steve. Little parasites inside the flesh.

He was looking into nightmare.

What was worse: he was looking into Steve’s torment.

The thing let out a hissing, clacking noise, its whole mouth vibrating with the sound, and Steve’s arm reached out with a fine tremor. “ _Down_ ” he ordered.

To Bucky’s astonishment, Slasher’s movements slowed and it lowered its head, enough to hide the worst of its mouth under the lip of its shell. Bucky stepped back.

“ _Down_ ” Steve said again, and it took Bucky a second to understand that Steve was talking to him. He wanted Bucky to put him _down_.

Bucky took another step back, shaking his head and gripping Steve tighter. This was too much. He could only see that going one way.

“It’ll tear you apart” he said shakily.

“Yes” Steve answered. He didn’t even deny it. “But it’s for you, and it says okay” his hand came down and tapped Bucky’s chest. “It’s for you, it… the voice call. It’s for you” he repeated and tapped Bucky’s chest.

Bucky didn’t understand.

“ _Steve_ ” he pleaded. It couldn’t end like this.

“Please?” Steve asked, and that hurt in a horrible way. He asked so easily, like he wasn’t breaking Bucky’s heart.

Bucky took one more step back, and that was too far it seemed. Slasher hissed loud and shrill, baring its mouth once more. It swung its body around and cut off Bucky’s escape, surrounding him with a wall of mottled shell and twitching legs.

“Down” Steve said again, a request and an order rolled into one. Slasher calmed again, but that didn’t mean much. It was still here, it was still going to take him.

A tiny sob escaped Bucky’s lips, but he bent and set Steve on his feet. He reached out a steadying hand as Steve swayed, catching his balance.

Steve reached out with his infested hand to cup Bucky cheek, and it was like being touched by a brand. Even through the bandages he was burning hot, far beyond anything a fever could reach. The skin of his arm had turned a terrible, blistering yellow.

“I’m not going to run” Steve said gently.

“Please don’t leave” Bucky choked out. He reached up and covered Steve’s hand with his.

“It’s Solution, Buck. For demon seed”

Anger pulsed through him. He’d come to loathe those words- the _demon seed_ and everything they entailed. The mess they made of Steve, this charnel husk they’d turned him into.

He couldn’t hold the anger long though, not with everything going on. Not with how helpless he was to do anything, just like last time but all the worse because he was right up close to it. Steve was right here in his arms yet he still couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Steve took a step back that was more of a stumble, and his hand slipped out from Bucky’s.

Bucky went to follow, but Steve raised an arm to stop him. “No” he said, a simple command that broke Bucky’s heart even more. He could feel it cracking in his chest with each step Steve took towards the monstrosity that towered over them like a monolith.

He kept his gaze on Bucky the whole way, eyes clear with horrible purpose.

Slasher rose again to bare its mouth to the world, and Bucky watched as Steve stepped into the cradle of it. He watched as the fleshy instruments bore down on him, little hooks that caught in Steve’s skin and pulled him off the ground.

Up and in, and Slasher lowered its head before Bucky could see any more. A cry fell out of him as his last view of Steve disappeared.

Bucky fell to his knees at the first sound of it, heard under the pervasive clicking. The sound of bone snapping and flesh being pulled apart, an atrocious sound. Yet not a single scream from Steve, but then why would he? Pain was heresy, wasn’t it? A fucking blasphemy.

He looked up into the beady eyes of the thing, inset in its shell and solid black, each the size of his fist. It looked on impassively at the world.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, listening to its work. He heard yelling distantly. There was a brief stint of artillery firing again, the smell of smoke, then that cut out too. Here in the center of it he was sheltered from everything outside, trapped in with the horror instead.

He knelt there and stared up at it, lost. Waiting.

Waiting for Steve.

He waited, and he waited, and people yelled his name and Steve’s name and he ignored it all. He waited until the sounds inside slowed, until the sounds stopped, until the silence began to stretch.

Then he heard a strange _snikt-snikt-snikt_ from within, a noise he couldn’t place, and Slasher started to move again. It dragged its legs up and rose, moved close enough to loom over Bucky and block out the sun. Moved until its mouth hovered above him, ready to swallow him too.

He looked up into the funnel of teeth, their little needle-ends glaring down at him.

One way or another, he’d see Steve again.

But then there was movement, right at the back of its gullet, and something red-white was being pushed out in the grip a three-clawed appendage.

It lowered down to Bucky at his chest-level, and he whimpered when he recognized it for what it was. Shaking, he reached out and took it- gently, so gently- in his hands. The appendage let go and retracted back into the void it came from. Slasher backed away.

Sunlight washed over him and illuminated everything in harsh details. The insect slowly moved away, freight cars on legs driving past him until he was freed from the trap it had made. It skittered past the wreckage of vehicles and the mass of tensed soldiers, disappearing back into the forest.

It left Bucky untouched, but inside he felt unmade worse than anything Hydra had ever done. The torture and the chair didn’t matter anymore, the self could be remade. _This_ , however, was unbearably cruel.

He heard his name being yelled, heard people start to approach, but he blurred it all out. He hunched over where he knelt, curling protectively over the merciless gift he’d been given.

* * *

[Transcript 00:13:55]

MD: Can you describe in detail what happened when you were up close to it? We need to know how Slasher behaved in relation to Captain Rogers’ supposed control of it, especially during his last moments.

JB: We’re done here.

MD: I understand this is difficult-

JB: [unintelligible] don’t [unintelligible] fuck your [unintelligible].

[Transcript note: recording device damaged during recording, remaining audio lost]

[Transcript ends 00:15:12]

* * *

He held on to Steve long after Slasher left. He held on to him through the intense questioning that he didn’t give a single answer to, that they gave up on after the hundredth attempt to make him let go. Ignored their whispers saying that he was crazy.

He held on during the subdued ride back to the tower, ignored the soft attempts to make him let go.

He held on while the others whispered outside his room, where he lay curled in the center of the bed with Steve tucked up against his stomach protectively. The weight of him was leaden, a collapsed star cradled at his core. They’d left the door open partways so they could check on him, and their voices carried.

“-won’t let go of-”

“-could sedate-”

“-not violent though-”

“-not _healthy_ -”

“- _died_ , we’re all hurting-”

He ignored their whispers. The sun had set a while ago, and he stared listlessly out the window.

There was a quiet knock at the door. He didn’t turn to see who it was.

“Hey, uh, Bucky?” Clint asked softly. Bucky didn’t answer.

“… So I was going through my phone, and I found… well, it’s” he stopped, started again. “Dr. Cho mentioned some stuff, and Jarvis looked at it, and we uh, printed it out, the translation”

Bucky kept his eyes on the blackened windows.

“I’m not really explaining this well. Uh, look, Steve left you a message on my phone, and we’re pretty sure he wanted you to read it. So, here”

He heard the _shiff_ of a paper being placed on the bed next to him. He lay absolutely still lest he shatter.

Then Clint quietly left, and Bucky reached blindly for the paper he’d set down. He brought it close to his face and skimmed the first few lines. A series of letters, _a_ to _e_ , spaced out like Steve had typed this morning. Funny how something so recent could feel so old.

Underneath the jumble of letters was the message Clint spoke of, and Bucky took the time to read it slowly.

He read it, and reread it, and read it again, over and over until the words blurred through his tears.

He tightened his grip on Steve’s skull, the dried blood crusting between the joints of his fingers.

* * *

> Bucky I love you I always do  
> A virus bad virus computer virus demon seed  
> infects the system  
> God died  
> She could not stop stop stop  
> She regrets  
> No compatibility the Gardener she  
> forced it  
> I survived  
> I am the cure solution Solution Solution  
> God is saved she will be remade with me  
> I love you Bucky love love you  
> wait for me I will be back  
> I love you  
> Bucky  
> Bucky  
> Bucky

Translated writing of S. G. Rogers from the phone of C. F. Barton

  
(Notes app from the phone of C. F. Barton)

There was darkness,

and there was darkness,

and there was darkness,

and there was God.

(“||| |||||||||||||||| |||||||| ||||”)  
(-̵̨̱̬͈̲̣͉̼̊̃͗̎̒̕͜͞͞'̧̻̰̪̫͗͌͌̌̓̊ *̷̳͈̥̝͍̀̈́̆͌͝ J̵̧͕̬͉̺̞̟̄̆̐͊̌̇̽̉͟/̧̮̤̮̯̞̙͐̉͊̌̃͑̔̿̏~̣̳̥̱͎̰̗̩͖̞̓̈̓̄̿ ^̷̳̫̲͖̙̂̋͛͝^̛͔̫̹̻͍͎̠̍͑͛͌͂̋͂̌`̵̨̢̨̮̙̠̬̞̩̑̎̃̐̓̕͢͞/̡̛͎͍͔̬̭̄̋͆̍̿̕͘͞͡ͅ .̵̡͚̹̹̟̞̙̾͌̈̍̈̒̿̊̾͜͠ͅ.̶̞͉͎͕͓̔̍͊̒͋̅͆͘:̸̖̝̱̟̝̓͐̃͛͑̽͆͂͢͟͟ͅ)


	27. Chapter 27

_God, I delivered Solution._

“||| |||||||||||||||| |||||||| |||| God |||| ||”  
('̨̧̘̳̹͑̇̍̔͗̍̕̕͟͟͜͡ ,̎G_O_D̷͚̞͕̫̬͗̒͗,͎̫̲̙̣̩͆̈̿̚͜ͅj̛̱̱͈̞̝̺͈͚͕͛̏͑́́̕͞͡ ~̶̩̗̥̰̝͔̣̹͙̄̊͆̉̔̈́͐̕͡ͅ.̷͙̟̹̤͎̔̉̓͂̑͐̅̕͘-̨̨̱̭̗̪͔̌̽̌̈́̈̿͂͛̒)

_I don’t understand you._

“||||||”  
(Ļ̵̰̖̻̰͍̠͕͊͋̾͞ͅ`̟͍̳͚̟̖̄̓̍̇̀͜͞_̧̨̠̟͈̯͕̦̝̇̌͑̓͌.̵̢̛̠̖̗̘̫͗͌̈́̽̓̄̂̾͟.̗̼̙͎̰͌̈̆̌͠ .̵̲͎͚̰̞̯̃̈͛͌͡ͅ;̧̭͇͍̘͒̐͒͘͞"̷̨̡͍͍̼͓͊̉͛̾̇"̵̛̛̛̼̹̞̺̹̟̣̣̈͗͆͂̃̇͟͝,̬̻̗̹̻̟͂̏̽̃̉͐͞͝)

_I don’t understand you._

;̢̥̺̦̻͇͓͛̉͋͛͑̇͞͡ͅ\̯̮̝̤̻̫͚̤̲́̿̌̊͋͑̕͜/̞̱͈̘̻̓̓̊͋́͘|̡̺̗͍̹̩̤̬͗̓̽̅͑͘͜,̤̫͎̤̤̘͚͍͈̽͆̋̾͌͂͘͡J̢̥͇͈̪̪͉̩̫̊̂̑͗̚̕͢;̷̛͚͕̺̩͈̐̉̅͝͞;̴͓͎͓̖͉̒̾͒̆̌̆͋͢;̴̞̼͔̞͖͊͊̓̋͟͢͝~̷̫̬̻̬̞͋͛͆͞ |̢͎̠̖̦̳̼̄̔̌̋̊̕̕-̷̡͔͓͈͚̰̍̋̑͌̓͋̍̐͞`̩̲̪̣͕̼̲̜̤̳̃͒̊͗̍/̸̡̛͍̼͑̇̅̀̍͟͜'̷̞̘͙͔͗̍͂́͊̂͠ͅͅ'̧͉̣̼̻͈̙̒̾̆͋̾̽̊͡͞͡ͅ,̴̟̭̟̩̟͚͔͓̱̃͛̔̈́̅͐̍̐̑͟;̛͇͕̱̭̱͎͖̅̒̄͜͞\̶̬̳̲̰̙̤̄̈́̇̈́̏͑̉̕͟,̶̨͎̳̜̣̞̾͗̍̾̉͊̋͠"̭͚̞͇̹̲͈̝̎͛͊̏̋̓̍͛-̢̦̣͉̒̅̔̕̕͢ͅ _̢̗͇͙̦̹͙̃̎̉͋̍̾͆̓~͉͍̝͇̹̳̓̏̒͐̃̔͜͠͞"̼͉̱̤̫̹̖͔̃̓̓̾́̚͘͟͠ |̜̣͎͉̘̆͂̋̀̇̍͂͘͘͘\͙̟̪̯͙̱̦͊͆̽͒̌͞,̵̪̝͔̰̹͍̻̱̞̠̓̌̔̌͞͝͝'̶̡̲͈̦̺̳͇̈͗̊̓-̷̧̡̟̣̺̣͚̟̘̊̆̊͋͆͜|̴͓͍͉̝͚̙̪̎͒͒̑̉̓́̋"̷̤̣̯̜̙̻͖͌̓̓͑̽̑͢-̴̨̛̛͍͈̩͈͉͖͂̽̈́̅̀̍ <͍̣̲̫̮̖̫̠̻̭̉̂̑́̊͂̍͛-̡̢̡̞̰̫̤̹̻̇̊͊͊͛͗̐̔̕͜ ~̪͚̭̰̹͉̩̹̯̆̾̆̉̍̌͜͞"̸̹͉̙̤̦̐̃͛̆̌̍͛͂͟͡͞,̢̮̯̪͓́̈́͌͑͂͘͞ͅ`̧̢̱̯̭̹̘͖͓̪͆̿͗̈́͞ ;̝͈̘̞͙̱͌̀͒͒̇́͜\̸͖̲͍͈̺͙̾̐̈́̒̍͑̿̓̊,̮̙̲̙̤̣̽͌͌͒͘̕͠͞,̸̛͕̬̠̮̼̥̣͚̖̀̃͌̋̕͜͠;̸̛̼̤̜̪̥̺̮̃̈́̆̉̋̒̋̌͞  
<̴̛̯͇̜̻̬͈̌͗̊̽͂̒̉͟ "̷̩̜̺̝͎̤̽̏̃̈́̓͢͠_̶̩̝̹͍̖͉̫͚́̇̀̽̑͜<̛̝̞͔͓̩̣̘͛̈͑̇̔̑̆̈́͜~̵̨̤͇̦̺̗͚͐̑͑̋̍͗̈́̃̐̚'̨̮̗̺͑̋̃̈̾̇̉͟͜\̵̹͔̬̟̜̠̭̬͖̰̓͂̎̆̐̈́̄͝͝|̴̣̯̫̳̼̟͍̝̇́̏̈́̂̽̒͜ |̛̛̛̘͇̠̺͊̓̏̿̌͗̕͜_̧̡͚͔̩͈̹̯͊̿̆̓̂̽͋̒͑/̶̢̛̯̻̝̻̥̖͖̿̏̒̌͞~̶̨͔͔̝̫̑͑̈́̿͑͠ͅ.̛͔͍͙͚̮̙̻̹͙̃̐͋̓̋̏̊̌̚:̡̛̱̘̙̲͇̘͗̒͗̈͆̔͢v͓̘͕͙̘̗͓͓̺͓̐̀͑̋̓̉̕͘͞.̴̡̧̡̤̫̪͉̻̭͖̽̇̃̃̿͠`̸̖̪̫̺̺̻͗̑͐͒́̑̚̕,̶̧̧̺͍̰̟̠͕̫̇̾̍̅̋͘`̴̹̲͙̹͍̫͈̉͊̎̈́̒̇̕'͚̗͍͙͗̇̅̔̾̊̎̇̓̍͢-̵̛̩̻͚̯̤̤͎̐̌͆̓̑̆̕͜ \̜͕̲̰̣̒͛̏͘͟͟͜͠\̗͎͎̹̾̉̔̆̊̎͟L̤̗̥̝͓͗̏͒̈̉̇͒͞;̨̭͕̺̥͕̥͗̈͑̈͘͜;̸̡̳̞̦̗̤̫͚͂͋͊̏̉͋͒͆͂̕-̢̝̦͖̱̖̉͋͒̌̽̏͛͢<̡̨̜̩̦̖̫͈̹̈́̂͊͞/̴̢̗̗̲̹̔̍͊̃̒͑͘̕̕͟ͅ:̺̯̮̦̻̣̰͖̥̐̀͊͒̏́̐̈́͜͞~̶̛̥̤̠̘̝͈͕̱̺̣͒͛͌͝ |̶̫̖̤̜̱̝̼̼̈̋͒̎͐͟ :̸̨͚̥̏̏̅͊̕͘͜͠ͅ.̞̙̬͍̪͓͙͉̜̬̓̿̓̌̐̈̚-̵͈̟͖͇̤̼̳̙͑̈͋̽̔͆̿͋͢_̢͓͈̇̊͌̃̓͂̅͜͟͠"̡͍̟̭̖̓̀̀̈́͐͒͠ͅ_̴̳̘̮͔͔͎͉͎̀͊̎̈͢͠ͅ<̲̘̼͓̜̠̹͔̣̿͐̐̋̈́̓͢|̮̩̰͚̝̩͓̳͆̀̈́̎̏̃͆͘͝͞'̡̜͕̥̤̙̋̾̋̚͝\̢̡̱̳̭̳̼̓̈́̐̚ :̼͔̪͚͔̭̜̻̲̅̾͒̄͂͝͝͡`̸̡̛̻̻͙̝̗̙̰͓̈́̋̈́͗̂~̸̡̛͎̝͖̖̲̻̦̞̫͒͂͑̍̿͡:̵̝̪̟̯̻̝͇̜̅̆̾̂͋͟͜,̪̳̮̮̹̜̂̈́̊̌̂̏̈́:͚̩̯̙̯͖̗̞̟͛͋͗̋͋͑̕͟-̣̭̞̰̱̬̊͂͑̕͡͠͝'̵̫̠̲͔̦͔̿̃͗̌̽̈͛́͡_̴̼̼͍̳͕̘̬͛̇̏̇̿̌̃̔̒͞ͅ'̸̢̬̝̥̗̳̓̓̔͠ /̨̢͖̗̖͛͆̐̒̊̾͐̐|̰͕͍̦͎͆̌̅͛̓͛̾ /̵̢̥͉̪̳͉̄̎͆́͊̀͜ͅ-̨̝̺̱̯̻͕͎͒̅̓̒̐͘͟͡"̵̨͚̩͔̦͓͒͊̊͋̊J̢͔̫̙̳̲̟̐̒̔͛͛̓̚̚͜͞ͅ<̶̨̝̖̩̗̝̣̤̟̈̆̈́̃̐̆̈́̽̽ͅ \̷̡̢̧̛̜͔͔̮̫̙̖͒͌̚͘-̡̨̺̣̠͆̈͆͘͢͝:̴̨̠̲͎̙̰̭̿̑͗̿̌.͙̣̫̩͉̻̠͛͐̉͐̆̕̚͢͜<̪͇͕͇̿̈̿̄̈́͟:̷̛͍̰̫͔͍̗̞͚̲̓͑͌̿͋͒͐͡'̴̨̱̬̮̲̗̬̮̙̘̐̋̓̊̾̉͗̾͞|̡̛̥̗̣͓̼̜̺̫̠́͗̑͝ :̡̛̭̱̝͚͑̎̒͋̚͞"̨̨̮̰̈́̓̍̉́̌͌͜͟'̴̨̥̜͕͎̄̅̓̍͞_̭̫̟͖̥̒̐͟͡͞ <̴͎̯̮̞͑͐̔͌̑̈̕͜͡:̸̨̧̟̥̮̅̐͆̓̾͜_̶̢̢̛̲̩̱͔̱̟͇̑̓̓̂̚͝  
"̴̬̙̪̱͓̫̂̽̚͘̚͢ͅ -̴̠̮͚̣̞͕̤͓̦̈̐̓͂̎̏̃͌̕͝ͅ:̴̨̬̦͙̲͔̈́̋͑̌͂͌̋̆̔͜ͅ `̴̤͙̹̙̫́́̔̑̈́'̴̙̫̰̗̟̭̣̤͗͑͌͂̿͛͘͟ .̶̫͖͙̼̘͇͈͎̱͛͛̌̇̓̏̆-̢͉̼͎̙̽̌̒̅̕_̨̪̼͈̮̊̐̐̈́̂͆̽̚͡͡'̭̼̥̟̮̂̐́͂̐̿̆͞.̷̨̻͖̤̣̦͔̖̾͋̍̒̆͊.̧̛̣̫̭̙̩̞̹͉̼͑̋͒͡:͉̩̙̱͓̞͗̽͗́͠`̬̟͓͇͙̖̃̎̆͒̈́͘͟͡ /̴̺̭̝̦͚͎̙̼̺́͂͂͌̑̾̐̒͜.̢̨̙̖͕͓͔̘̰̹̇͋̃̒̈́̅͝,̵̜̳̣̠͉͑̅͐̽͑̔̉͜,̹̪̗̺̜̩͉͉̭̽̓͗͂́͒͊̈͞͠ _̴̧̘͈̫̌͑̅̉̎͟|̶̡̨̞̣̠͍͚̰̙̍̏͛̐̌̉͒̓ͅ`̡̧̣̪̠̅́̿̓̄͟͞_̦̲̯̳̼͎̰̽̅͂͋̈͟͠/͉̖͇̯̰̙̿̂̽̑̈́͢͟͜͟͞͝:̧̛̭͕̘̦̘̜͖͈̽̈́̋̋͘͜͞͝'̷̥̤͕̖̞̟̇̾͋̽͢͟͜͡͞ '̶̝̮̰̳̿̎͊͗͘͢͢ͅ-͓̣̥̪̼̙̼͉̜͋̑̅̎͗̊̋͘͢͠:̶̡̡̳͔̼͍̞͖̼̓̋͊̓̓͂̆͘͝͞ͅ|̷̨̰͕͔̲̇͊̆̍̋͋͌͟ ;̶̻̳͔̫̲̞̥̿́̾̓͘-̘͎͉̗̺̬̟̼̳͇͂̉̒̔̃̚͡͞:̶̡̢̰̩̩̗̿̎̈͗͠"̜̻̮͚̟̾̌͑̌̑ͅ /̸̞̗͔͕͇̟̘̈́̇̐͒̂̈͟͠L̶̞͈̬̫̮̦͋͗̍͂͗/̨̻̣̝͉̊̿̋͆̉̔̚'̡̝̺̻̹̙̉̂́̈͘ `̴̭͕̭̯͓̖̲̦͐͌̇̏̀͊̈̚͟ /̢͍͎͍̬̱̥̟̖̔͗̇̆̓"̷̖̟̱̪̘̯̅̉̑̽\̨̡̛͇͔̘͖̠͎̇̑̆́͠ "̴̡̺̺̤̘͍̽̏͐͂̔̚\̶̡̧̺̙̝̅͊̓̂̂̈̊̓̕͘.̹̜͉̖̥̳͚͈̐̏̌̏͊͟͝,͙̘̲̥̲̲̓͑͐̉͡͝|̨̡͔͓̻̯̮̘͇̦̈́̉͌͊́ |̡̯̦͉͕͕̟̬̏͑̐̍̐̑͟ '̸̮̟̱̜̩͍̖̽̇̿͋͆̿v̺̙͙̰̣͇̞̈́͒̒̐͒̚̕͞͝'̷̢̛̛͚͍͉̬̮̥͓͗̊͗́͌̍͒͐͟<̢̭͎̰͕̳͒̌̎̿̓̕͝͠͡-̷̖̬̱͙̩̗̓̇̓̉̊́̉̓̎̿ͅͅ <̨̣̱̩͙̉͊̒̾̂'̢̨̢͔̰̟̦̟̤̈̿͗̏̾̆́̚͝"̸̧̧̞̻͚̞̙̳̼̂̇̋͂̒ :̆́̒̂̓̕  
̵̨̩̼̩͙͇̹͖̣͒͑͛,̫̟͎̽̏̌͆͌͌̆̍͘͢ͅ-̵͎̱̱̮͇̂̾̌̀͘͠͞ \̥͉̖͓̣͉͎̙̠͕̇͗͊̓͋̔̃<̷̡̟͔̟̙̲͔̭͇͚̄͌͗̿̄̌̇̓͠͡~̟̲̮͓̮͐̂͑͗̕͝ v̜̝͔̜̱͚̔̈̒̚̚͞~̨̛̻̗̯̰͉̥̂̍̽͗͊͌̒̅̒"̵̨̰̹͇̙̖̓̎̐͗̈̌̕̚͟͡ <̫̖͙̯̮̭̩͛͒̊͑̓̎̔̂͢/̷̝̰̹̭͉̘̺̪͆̽͋̀̄̔̆̕   
[translation-apply]

“[Greeting]. Why do you call me God?”  
(.̡̛̱̗̼̳̆͑͒̎͘͘͟͟.̨̫͍͚̲͉̰̙̻͛͑̆̕̚͘͢.̴̢̛̼̠̭̦̻͙͚̦͓͂̔̽̃͠"̇̐̾G_O_D̵̪̼̜̯͖̰̗̀̕̕͢͟͡ *̵̨͔̜̯̘̬̻͆̌̽̅̑͝`͉̦͕͚͉̾̋̒̽̾̈́̎`̷̹̙͔̩̬͈͌̇̔̀͂̔͒͟ \̼̮̺̜͇͊̓̉͠.̢̖̞̳͕̥͌͐̌̽͜͞,̶̛̛̖̠̯̺̤̙̲̄͋̈́̊̓̒̃~̷̨̛͓̼̘̺͚̿͋͊̔̌͗͝ͅ)

_You are God. You are the Creator._

“I am not any [religious-deity]. Who speaks this?”  
(;̶͔̻̮͕͚̫̿̉͆͛̃̆͞͞.̵͙̣̬̩͔̊̄̂̂̽<̷̧̡̨͕̺̼̋̊̐̐͑͞<̴̬̗͓̟͉̤͚̮̠͋͊͋̿̂͐͢-̷̧͉̯̣̜̤͚͗̅̓͋͌͝ v̗͕̦̜̣̖͋͋̈̈́͐̿̓̎̍~̭͚̱͓̮̙̾̈̄̚͜͝͞ .̛̦̠̪͓̿̓͋̕͢͠.̡̨̞̩͚̰͛̑͗̃͡ =̴̫̝͎͉̣͛̓̈̒̍)

_You are_ _the_ _Creator. You give Purpose._ _You are God.  
You are the maker of the Holy Text._

“Do your [species-culture] speak this?  
This is a mistake. I am a sentient, do not worship me”  
(;̫̠̫̤̭̀͆̑͆̓̉̀̂͘;̶̢̛͙͉̫̲̭̾̂̑̓̋̕.̨̜̻̹̘͉̳͉̑͆̽̌̌͢"̡͍͇̖͙͎̻͔̈͑͆̇́͗͢"̵̨̢̛̣̻̦̠̰͊̀͛͗̈́͋̏́ "̻̯̼̩̯̭͍̯̝̘͌́͊͌͊̈̉̑̕"̵̘̳̙̤̼̪͂̏͐͆̕͘͝͡ `̨̲̲͉͕͔͗̉̇̊͌͞.͎͉̟̘͈̼̑̒̀̎̽̋ͅ;̡̧̹̪͉͉͙̗̩͑́̾͋̐̅̒͛̀̍͜ >̢̡̞̬͕͗͊́̐̃̄̕͘͞,̴̰͇̲̭̈́̔̏͊̎̚͟͜ͅ-̴̨̖̗͚͉͈̎̾̈̈́͊̿͢-̸̡̛̦͚̞̫͕̫̮̣̌̊͑̇̃̅̌̇͝)

_The Gardener made me clergy. I delivered Solution.  
I delivered _▣▫►◮▫◥◇▴◧◿■.

“[Disbelief-of-soil], you speak as one of the machines?  
This is [control-inside] a sentient, you are [technology-abomination]”  
(:̷̣͇̣̩͑͆͛͛̏̐̕͢ .͇͕̜̗̭̞̥̑̐͊̽̆̑̔͋.͙͖͍̜̙̼̯̣̥͆̇̅̄͋̈́̕͟`̴͕͔̣̝̬̤̠̣̌̾̿̿̊͟͠͠)

_I ha_ _ve_ _Solution for demon seed._ _I turned Solution._ _I delivered Solution._

“This is [forbidden-impossible]. You are [victim-of-mistake].  
Do you understand?”  
(,̴̣͉̘̳̺̱̩͑̋̆̊͋̃̈̊͊̍ͅ.̛̖͎͓̟̯̽̊̈́̀͊͊͢͞͞,̵̢̡͓̜̣̤͎̘͐͂̊̇̂ ,̨͍̦̥̇̓̐̔̂̌̄͘͡ͅ.̴̞̫͇͈̦̻̟̂̐̔̉͒͑͂̏̔͡ `͔͓̞͔͍̈́̈́̐̾͆̌͊̕̚:̥͕̖̰̺̝̌̏͒͒͗͘͞_̧̧̡̩͔̤̭̻̞̋̏͆͛̉̽̎͑̕͟ `̛͉̬̤̼̼̐̏̔͗/̸͙͖̠̘̝̗͌̆̒̄̊͒͂̔̒̕'̸̰̥̥̹̫̆̑͋̚͢'̵̧̤̰͎͕̯̱̙̞͂̿̐̈̎̔̋͟)

_I delivered Solution._

“[Unfavourable-ground], [technician] corrupted you”  
(.̶̨̢̘̰̰̗̣͉̱̄͐̇̐̇̌̂̄̕.̧͉̯̰͓͚͍͉̭̓͊́͌̊̀̎ͅ.̝̰̣̬̤͌̀́̎͡͞.̷͇͉͚̫͍̩͍̄͆̊̀̓͋̾̉͢͠.̴̤̖̜̗͙̜̖̯͕̟̽̅̑̎̏͂͑̈̅̚ -͍̞̗̲̬͎͗̅͆̅͆͝_̵̱͇͇̠̅̌͊̎̅̕͢͢͜͞͠͝ͅ`͎̳̻̫͕̗͔͕̱̄̎̔̄̐̓̕)

_I have Solution. I delivered Solution._

“I am sorry. I am sorry this happened. I will try to fix you”  
(,̬̭̠̲̞̼̈̓̍̏̇͢ͅ `̶̧̛̬̳͔͓̞̥̮͂̒̎͡͡ͅ`̵̭͕̩̯͉́̒̾̏̈́̊͘͟`̧̲̲͕̠̫͚̟͓͌̾̀̾̀̉̕`̸̡͈̖̙̩̣͓̖̅̈̏̓͋̓̿͛ *̧̘̘̭̭͇͉̺͎͌̔͋̉̈̐̃́̔.̢̨̭͚̭̹̘̻͇͆͌̓̇̒͐͐̕͘'̶̦̳͍͖̬͛͛͋̆͑̉̌͒̕͟͝ͅ;̴̡̡̟͔͔͓̽̽̊̌̀)

_The Gardener will fix us. We’ll resurrect._

“[Technician] is not a programmer, this was bad [coding-implement]”  
(<̴̢͎͖̙̘̦͐͊̇͘̚͟͝ͅv̧̡̰̺̯͔̭͈̻͗̓͒̐͗́̃͘.̨̝̯͔̬̜̝͒͋̀̽͗̕̕.̢͕̹̹̀̈́̆̇̇͆̇̕͟ͅ,̛͇͈̘̬͎͔̬̮͎̈̂̓̋͘̕͢ *͈͓̗̼̜̝̐̒͛̿̓̾͌͗̽͢^̵̨̹̘̻͎͖̤͚͌̽̽͐̉͘͡)

_I delivered Solution._

“Do you understand what has happened?”  
(.̡̧̢̯͎̲̻̗̘̗̐͐̃̾̉͛;̸̛̭̩̞͍̥͈͍̬͒͞"͇̗̝͈̣͇̘͇̓̈́͐̎̉͘͡͠"̶͇̤͈͓͚͈̬͒̓̓͑̾̑͑͘͠"̶̬͖͔͎̠͊̽̔̏͘͜ ~̵̛͙̮̻̫̮̭̿̃̋͋͠͞ .̷̡̩̹̻̭̫̤̝̮̔͛̂̈̉̄̑͜͝,̵̢̨̖̜͓̎͊̄̌̃͘ _̵͙̫̱̊̋̾̓̚͟͢͜_̧̛̳̳̰̓̋̃͊̈̉̚̕͟'̨̖̳̤̰̃̃́̃͆͆̏͘͢͞;̢͎̟̫̤̟̤̦͗̓̆̊̓͘͜;̦͉͔̟̗̻̭͌̐̓͐̃̅̈;̨̮̙̭̰͓̺͉͚̪̌̆͛̂̋͘͘ ~̴̨̥̟͚̇͒̐̄̋̾͌̽̕͞ͅ)

_I delivered Solution._

“Are you [aware-of-self] of your mind?”  
(;̶̧̱͚̰̻͖͓̼̹̓̃̌̋̒̿̓͠;̨̗̺̱̘̙́̈́͂̏̍̑̆͢~̢̛͇̜͚̪̋͊͐̑ -̛̰̘͔͉̟̭͛̉̊̒̔̇ '̷̡̧͈̩̼͉͈̂̒͑͆͞'̡̧̫̹͇̬̳͔̿̑̏̚̚̕'̡̛̛̟̙̫̳̯̖̅̒̐̀͛͛͝'̴̳̗͇̜̇̀͊̃́͂̉͢:̵̨̨̛͈̙̳̻͚͎͎͕͌̐̎̕;̷̪̟̬̤̥̗̗̤̂̌̐̿̊̚͘͞/̡̛̺͍͕̤͓̻̮̙̔͂͆̑͌͛͜ |̴̖̠̩̥͎̦̔̈́̇̾͌̊͞)

_I delivered Solution for the demon seed.  
Everything’s going to be okay now, we’ll resurrect._

“…[Agree]. We will… resurrect”  
( ;̸̲̲͈̩͈͕̺͖̘̀̈͆̀ͅ,̡̛̥͎̖͎͚̜̠͓̈̾͛̎̉͢,̶̛̬̖̞̜̙̱̟̫͂̓̂͆͞,̵̧͇̱̝̩͇̄̂̒͂̾̚̚͞ͅ `̧̦̫͎̗̲̌̔̊͂͋̑̕̚͢͠_̼͎̦̼͔̻͆̈́̈͆̏̾̂ͅ |̴̯̲̝̪͚̭̩͚͚͚̉̏͊̈̽́̉)

_We’ll resurrect._

“What is your [informal-name]?”  
(.̴̨̧̨̛̺͔̫̝͍̬͓̀̓̒̕̕̕͞.̷̡̼͙̝̬͂̐̾̈́̔̇̒̃̾͠`̢͔͍͚̩̺̇͒̅̍̅ L̢̥̬̩͈̱̏̅͐̂̚͟)

_I think I was Steve._

“[Agree], Steve. I am [Noble-Plant], I am [friend-stranger].  
We are in [memory-cache], no harm will come to you in this place”  
(/̛͍̱̩̣̹͔͙̿̈́͛͒͒̃͛̏͠ͅͅJ͎̥̬̝̭͉̾̑̒̉̆̑͢ `̢̭̰̟̲̠̰̮͑̈́̃̉̒͡͞`̸̨̘̦̬̙̪͂͊̾͗͘͘,̸̡̪̼̭̙̼̞͔͌̈́̔̏͋̅͜͞.̶͈͙͙͙̰̟̂͗̊̊͢ͅ *̵͍͕̘̬̻̮̥̌̐̎̍͋͒̿̄̓̕*̴̡̦̤͍̫͓̘̹̦̳͂̽̐̀̄̈́͛͌̾-̢̧̦̹͊̒̇͋́̐̈͟͢ =̌̚S_T_E_V_E̩̖̩̜̭̽̆̃̉͡͞ '̷̡̛̙͉͖̹̣̮͖̗̔͛̇̂̐̇̕͜;̷̛̦̝͎͉̠̰͉̎̃͘͢)

_I delivered Solution._

“You do not understand?… No, you would not.  
You are [wilted-sentience]”  
(`̧̛̠̙̙͕͇̯̝̙̍̀̓̈̄̇͝͝͝.̘͎̯̼̮̳̗̮̙̽͂̈͒̅̽̋̎.̢̛̦̥̭̤̱̝̙̼̓͌̀͆̂͐̚ ,͚͚̞̟̘̔͊̾̅͂̓̄̓̈͟͢;̢̡̣͔͕̱̞̙̗̬͋̔̾̐͋͒̎͘͞-̶̮͍͈̭̜͚̉͛͆̐̍̕͡͝ /̶̻͚͉̥̮̿̊̎̆̇̈́̚v̺̤̜͈̥̏̋͒̄͋͗̿͟͞`̸̥̭̱̥̬̣̫̽̍̃̈́̎̒͑̚͠͡ͅ`̧̯͓̘̱̮̗̪̜͌̊̄̕`̴̨̛͕̲̱̪̩̬̮̀̈́͊͌͗̊̑̕͝ͅ`̸̪̬̯̮̈̀͒͡͡͡ͅ`̸̲̳̬͎͙̇̅̓͆͑̾͐͋̀͢`̺̝̥͙͇͒̾̄̔́͂͋)

_I delivered Solution._ ▣▫►◮▫◥◇▴◧◿■.

“Be calm. I will try to fix you”  
(.̼͈̙͇͉̏͆̽͌̅.̵̢̛̹̭̩̙̼̣͇̇͑̿̃̂́͐͞,͍̳̞̰̑̐̒̃̕͜ ~̸̢̝̯̟͊̏̒̐̈̋͜ =̢͓̱͍̱̦̅͆͊͘͡ͅ '̴̨̜͍̣͖̌̎͋͢͠͞'̷̨̧̙͈͕͎̑̈͂̔͝͠\̴͇̙̣̹̙̻̣̀́͛̓̑̍͘̚͟ ≮̡̤̟̼̝̠̈́̀͆͂͗̀̅͢;̵͔̱͕̗͑̒̑̐̅́̈́̆͠ͅ)

  
("I will fix you")  
(.̼͈̙͇͉̏͆̽͌̅.̵̢̛̹̭̩̙̼̣͇̇͑̿̃̂́͐͞,͍̳̞̰̑̐̒̃̕͜ ~̸̢̝̯̟͊̏̒̐̈̋͜ =̢͓̱͍̱̦̅͆͊͘͡ͅ '̴̨̜͍̣͖͋͢͠͞'̷̨̧̙͈͕͎̑̈͂̔͝͠\̴͇̙̣̹̙̻̣̀́͛̓̑̍͘̚͟ ̵͔̱͕̗͑̒̑̐̅́̈́̆͠ͅ)


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update!

_It is agreed by both the scientific community and UN Council that the invasive organisms within the Occupied Zone present a general danger to the local ecosystem and human populace, and it has been decided that a method of extermination must be implemented to prevent further spread and destruction._

_In this proposal, several methods will be presented, along with implementation techniques, cost estimates, benefits, risks, and rates of effectiveness. Among these proposals include:_

  * _Controlled burning_
  * _Dispersing airborne pesticide and herbicides_
  * _Implementing high-yield drone strikes_
  * _Utilizing the seasonal and weather shifts of the winter months_



_We will also explore a combination of these methods as a possible venue to increase success._

_Lastly, we will touch on new methods of eliminating the organism known as Slasher, as well as containment protocols for possible relocation to a more isolated location where the dangers of its presence will be limited._

Introduction of Project Ripley, page 1, now deemed obsolete

* * *

> _At the time I was upset that Barnes treated me so roughly, but now I can’t help but be thankful he forced me along because it let me see everything myself!_
> 
> _I couldn’t believe my eyes, Rogers had actually been controlling Slasher! He raised his hand and stopped it in its tracks like a dog to heel! There’s video of it too, nobody can refute it! _
> 
> _~~It feels morbid~~ ~~disrespectful to talk about~~ ~~I won’t touch on what happened~~ I suppose his ~~skull~~ remains could hold more information but…_
> 
> _I won’t ask to see it right now. It was hard enough getting the blood samples when he was alive._
> 
> _It was a good thing I was there to see this development, I was able to get in touch with one of the drone techs at the neighbouring base. Slasher’s movements were markedly slower afterwards and we were able to mobilize successfully._
> 
> _I won’t go over my report again here, but for my own reference I’ve included an abridged version of events:_
> 
>   * _Slasher goes to the Collection and holds still for approx. 20 minutes._
>   * _Slasher begins convulsing, lasting approx. 45 minutes. The movements destroyed all the sculptures ~~the place looks like a real boneyard now~~_
>   * _Convulsions end. Slasher repositions itself in a spiral formation. Its head on the outside and the end of its tail at the center._
>   * _Core temperatures rise to above 100 C°, unsure of exact number. Steam escapes from the mouth and shell seams. This goes on for approx. 12 minutes, with an additional 5 minute cool-down._
>   * _Slasher retreats to the Seed._
> 

> 
> _As of writing this (4 days after entering the Seed), Slasher has not come out. Slasher used to patrol its territory daily, so this is a major development in behaviour. There’s even been talk of sending an exploration team in if there’s no sign of it for another 26 days, and I don’t know if I want to be part of that or not._
> 
> _On one hand, yes! I’ve only been on short excursions at the border, they only send those little toy-car drones to explore the deeper areas, so this would be my best opportunity to observe the specimens in their natural habitat._
> 
> _But on the other hand._
> 
> _I’ve spent a lot of time in the morgue.  
>  _

Excerpt from the Personal Journal of Dr. Mike Sabos, member of the Harriman Research Team

* * *

[Transcript begins at 00:00:03]

CONRAD SHORT: _Thousands gathered today at St. Michael’s Roman Catholic Church for the funeral of Captain Ste_ _v_ _en Grant Rogers, a hero beloved by many._

[Video of organ played inside church, the sound of choir singing is heard]

_Inside St. Michael’s, music of transcendence for funeral._

[Video cuts to outside of church, large crowd gathered]

_Outside, expressions of love and mourning for a man many knew to be a hero who has saved them and their city countless times._

[Video cuts to woman interviewed, reads ALLISON MAY]

MAY: _No doubt he saved me, he saved everyone. There were the aliens, and those robots, and just all those crazy things. Captain America always came through, he kept this city- he kept this country safe._ _Y_ _eah, no doubt._

[Video cuts to woman interviewed, reads TASHEKA HUDSON]

HUDSON: _He saved me and my sister, he lifted- just, this huge piece of a building we almost got crushed under. And he didn’t just leave, he made sure we were okay, he walked us to someone who could help ‘cause we were stranded. He really cared, that’s why a lot of people are out here. He really cared about them, and they could tell._

[Video cuts to man interviewed, reads RYAN CHATMAN]

CHATMAN: _It’s a sad day, but it’s also kind of a celebration, you know? All these lives he touched. He brought real goodness into this world, he fought for what was right, and I think that legacy will live on._

Transcript excerpt of NBC News Segment, NY

* * *

> _Slasher was spotted for the first time in 8 days after retreating into the Seed. Excursion canceled. Am I relieved or disappointed?_
> 
> _On the bright side, Slasher is behaving differently now, so there’s something new to study in any case._
> 
> _It dug a hole a short distance from the Seed, we estimate about two metres deep. It’ll stick its head in the hole for hours at a time before returning to the Seed for only minutes, then back to the hole._
> 
> _Drones are being sent out hourly for pictures and video, but we can’t get too close to the Seed or the drones die. As far as we can tell it just lies there motionless. No idea what the head segment is up to down there._
> 
> _What’s it doing?  
>  _

Excerpt from the Personal Journal of Dr. Mike Sabos, member of the Harriman Research Team

* * *

**Avengers** @AvengersOfficial

With sad hearts we say goodbye to Captain Steve Rogers tonight. He will always be remembered. #CaptainAmericaRemembered  
12K Replies 78K Retweets 900K Likes

> **Susie with a U** @toucanon  
>  Replying to @AvengersOfficial
> 
> Our hearts go out to you. NY is here for the Avengers, our heroes. #CaptainAmericaRemembered #GodBless #RememberTheFallen  
>  2K Replies 6K Retweets 30K Likes

> **rip** @ashme_nothing  
>  Replying to @AvengersOfficial
> 
> Where’s the body? Where’s the rest of the missing footage? We have a right to know what happened that day. What alien dangers are you hiding? #MissingHarrimanFootage #OccupiedZoneLies  
>  4K Replies 7K Retweets 18K Likes

> **Marshal** @mrg0  
>  Replying to @AvengersOfficial
> 
> Why wasn’t @JBBarnesOfficial at the funeral? Wasn’t he Captain America’s friend? #MissingAvenger  
>  692 Replies 56K Retweets 22K Likes

Selection of replies from Twitter

* * *

> _It’s been a zoo here, everyone is going nuts._
> 
> _Seemingly overnight every single beacon sapling wilted. The next day they had all re-grown unnaturally fast. Then we saw a cascade change in the rest of the environment as the day went on. Every single organisms has gone savage, everything is killing everything else. All the plants are wilting and dying. Some of the bugs are killing themselves._
> 
> _None of the specimens in our lab have been effected. We brought in a sample of the new beacon sapling and fed it to a group of silkworms. They killed each other within 30 minutes. We fed one of the dead worms to an urchin. Effects where not obvious until the next day when we realized it had stopped eating. Death is expected in the next three days as it starves itself._
> 
> _We’re still trying to figure out how it spreads to the plants._
> 
> _We can all agree the saplings are the cause, but we’re running a chemical and genetic analysis on the fungus to see if we can confirm this for sure._
> 
> _Most notably, I have also observed the following changes at the time of this shift:_
> 
> _-The shell patterns on the newest generation of coin beetles have changed. It’s still geometric, but cleaner. I can see squares, triangles and lines clearly defined. ~~The language evolved?~~ They didn’t last long though, just like everything else they were purged out. Their shells remain for study though._
> 
> _-Slasher’s shell has molted. It came off as a single piece and was then consumed, no chance of collecting samples. The new shell was solid black from our last observation, but then it retreated into the Seed again and hasn;’ come out. No telling what else might have changed._
> 
> _Is it coincidence that the sapling’s roots run roughly two metres deep? Was this Slasher’s work, or was it Rogers’?_
> 
> _He was talking about a ‘solution’. Was this a final solution? Did he cause this mass extinction? Or maybe he triggered a cleanup?_
> 
> _In any case, I think Slasher sent out the biochemical signal to shut-down the ecosystem. Cause and effect: Slasher digs a hole to get to the sapling roots - > change enters the food chain and alters the organisms._
> 
> _People are actually listening to me. The whole team is taking my theories into account now, and we’re making real progress I think. Not that it’ll mean anything if everything dies._
> 
> _Still, if there’s anything I know, it’s that there’s value in an autopsy.  
>  _

Excerpt from the Personal Journal of Dr. Mike Sabos, member of the Harriman Research Team

* * *

> _It’s been 4 days since the purge began, and its taken that much time for it to finish totally. Everything is dead._
> 
> _Drone images prove this, all the plant life is brown and shriveled. Any bugs we see are empty husks of shell. The black lilacs have turned the forest floor completely black with their carcasses. The only survivors are inside the lab now._
> 
> _They’ve reduced the wait time to 20 days instead of 30. If we don’t see Slasher in that time, we’ll be greenlit to explore the Seed. Something good out of this shitshow at least._
> 
> _In other news, t_ _he air is breathable_ _again._ _W_ _e’re_ _already_ _seeing birds taking up residence in the area._ _With enough time our natural ecosystem will take over once more, but there’s talk of setting a controlled burn to remove the dead biomass first._
> 
> _I don’t feel like my time was wasted, but half a year studying these things only for it all to die doesn’t feel great either.  
>  _

Excerpt from the Personal Journal of Dr. Mike Sabos, member of the Harriman Research Team

* * *

Four days after Steve’s death and a Hydra offshoot attacked a genetics lab in California. No fucking respect with these assholes.

It was the first time Bucky skipped on a mission involving Hydra.

He also skipped the next three over the course of a month. They’d pulled back on their terrorizing and started branching back out to other areas now that the zone was dead. Bio-agents and chemical weapons, attempts to destabilize governments and such. The usual Hydra M.O. now that the shiny aliens stopped being useful.

He’d _almost_ gotten out of bed for a mission when he heard they had intel that Hydra had smuggled out some alien bugs, but in the end he didn’t. It turned out okay though, Natasha and Clint had cleared the bunker and repossessed the insects. There was still an issue of other bugs being out there, but it turned out they stopped reproducing when too far away from the Seed, so eventually that would solve itself. A small relief.

He didn’t leave the tower apartment anymore, painful as it was to stay there. He’d turned down every image of Steve, couldn’t bear to look at his smiling face anymore. He’d gone out a total of once since getting back, a short trip to a different floor to do some interview, and that hadn’t ended well. Now he barely left the bed most days- despite the others attempts.

Sam had pulled out all the stops- spoke to him about his niece’s school play, about the slightly less shitty coffee they’d started serving at the VA, about the paparazzi he ‘accidentally’ tripped into a puddle. He talked about everything that didn’t matter, and for a little while it helped. In turn, Bucky would tell him one of the few stories he had that didn’t involve Steve- because most of his memories from before were shot and most of them afterwards involved him.

Natasha had brought a distillery worth of vodka that neither of them touched. The first night she poured two glasses anyway, and they toasted silently before pouring their glasses on the floor. She’d sharpen her knives or clean her guns while he lay there, and on good days she could convinces him to move to the couch while she did.

Clint was somewhere between those extremes, a constant stream of talking or absolute silence depending on his own mood.

Tony didn’t ever visit him on his own, and he didn’t stay very long either, maybe said a few lines that could be taken as comfort. He dealt with the brunt of the media and legals issues though, and that didn’t go unappreciated. Bucky had quietly thanked him at one point, which was a good way as any to chase the man out.

For the first week Bucky let himself wallow, let the all-encompassing grief hold him down. After that he tried- he honestly _tried_ \- to get up, but every time he did, he just… couldn’t. Everything was too heavy. _He_ was too heavy.

Eating and drinking became a chore. Showers became a full-day ordeal. Laundry was no longer a possibility.

He’d given up Steve’s skull the day after his death, but the weight of it followed him still. Natasha had told him they were going to cremate it, and Bucky didn’t have it in him to argue for burial. There was already an empty casket at Greenwood anyway, couldn’t well dig that up now.

It was probably better like this. All those etchings carved into it would’ve meant those vultures would want it for their studies. At least nobody could desecrate his ashes.

He kept his phone with him in bed, it was the only thing he could scrounge enough energy to interact with. He checked his notification and messages regularly now, focused on anything to do with the Occupied Zone and the aliens.

When the news hit that everything was suddenly dying, he’d gone into a haze. He figured after everything that he’d hate the place, hate the bugs and their reign over the land, but he couldn’t have that either, could he? Suddenly there was nothing for him, because how could he hate what was dead? What was the point?

He’d gotten Jarvis to forward him any reports made to the Avengers, and anything else Jarvis could access. He poured through them for… something. A scrap of some unknown substance. He couldn’t say why, but he needed something tangible to still exist amidst everything that had ruined their life.

Maybe he was chasing a last connection to Steve. Maybe he was going crazy.

The last option was becoming more of a possibility as he read the latest request from the research team. They’d sent a requisition to the Avengers, one of hundreds that had gone ignored in the past, and at this point it was nothing but a formality.

Suddenly Bucky was sitting up, the phone creaking precariously in his hand as he read this particular one. Here was an answer- or a possibility of one at least.

“Jarvis” he called, ignoring how his voice scratched from disuse.

“Yes Sergeant Barnes?”

“Send a reply to this, let them know I’ll be joining. Code ‘Rat Hunt’; don’t tell the others”

* * *

> _20 days with no sighting. We leave tomorrow. I’m excited and nervous. Everything is unknown._
> 
> _They fired explosives near the Seed as a test. Nothing. Then they air-dropped some rabbits (species native to the area, Aubrey made a real fuss about it), still nothing. If Slasher is still alive, it’s become dormant. ~~I hope it’s dormant.~~_
> 
> _Our team consists of myself, Sun, and Sam. Israa wanted to go too, but his pacemaker means he can’t. We’ll be accompanied by a squadron of soldiers I don’t know the names of, and a last-minute Avengers escort of Barnes._
> 
> _This excursion is volunteer-only, I don’t know why he’s joining us.  
>  _

Excerpt from the Personal Journal of Dr. Mike Sabos, member of the Harriman Research Team

  
("|||| |||||||||||| | |||| |||||||")  
(,̖͕͖̠̫̗̫̬̞͛̂̐͊̒̎̈́̚͞͡.̸̛̯̟̥͔͈͕̫̓͒̌͊;̨̜̤̼̪̥̼̽͂̔̋̀̋́̌͒͜͟͡;̢̭̪̥̠͖̞̩͍͉̓̿̎̕̕͞;̯̘̗̥̻̞̖̻̍̌̊̿̋;̴͈̪̪̜̋̐̿̊̾ͅ `͚͉̮̦̘̱̀͌͌̃̈́̏͂͞ *͕̭̦̗͊̏̾̽͒͢'̛͙̤̩̹̥̙̼̝̘̣̍͑̀͛͌́́͠'̢̨̠͖̰̭̱̯͐̈͒̌͋̑̕͡/̞̯̲̺͕̖̲̆͂̉̉̽̌̀͛̕͡ -̡̨̛̣͚̞͎̰̫͚͂̃̾̈́́̄,̧̧̛͉̜͕̬͎͈̺͌̏̿̋̊̀)


	29. Chapter 29

“You are quiet in [excessive-time]”  
(*̸̗͇͎̫̞͇͇̭̈́̎̓̏̏͐͋̿ͅ^̴͍͙͉̼̼̹̹͈̲͐̌̾̚͠ͅ|̷̡̤̮̦͇̟̳͆͑̌̃̆̆̈́͜_͓̗̤̳̖̻̜͈͊̒̾̓͒͌̂̑̊͊ ,̛͖̦͇̠̲̏̉̔̆v̨̨̞̪͚̼̗̭̄̿́̓͜͞~̷̜̦͉̼̋́͌́̕͜͞.̴̢͈̪͇̖̓̓͗́͗͆͘'̰͕̯͍͖͙̈́͗̈́͑͋͜|̛̱̼̯̩̙͕̠͖̍̄̌̑̈͑̅̕*̡̬̬̙͔̺͈͐̌͋͗̓͝)

_I’ve been processing._

“Processing what?”  
(/̢̝̪̤̭͙̹̮͚̓̈́̕̚͟͝:̶̧̖͖̯̤͓͔̠̝̍̋̍ͅ*͎̻̫͍̖̻͐͗̆̎̆͠.̨̨͙͖͚͓̻̣͂͛́͂̋͝~̸͕̟̹͕̦̒̍̋̂͂́͒̂͋͠ "̴͖͔͓̱̱͂̔̑́̾̄̔͒̄̿͢ _͇̭̳͔͚̎̉̽͗̑͗,̨̘͈̥͍̳̽͑͐͟͠͞ͅ`̷̛̜̗̤̮̹̄͒̓̑̆̆̿͠,͇͖̳̠̺̌̍̀͛̽͌͑͒̐ͅL̴̝̰̳͓͖͇̃̇̈́̌̽̆͘͟'̶̧̡͔̥͕̔͛̂͆͝"̸̻͇̣̟͕̹̈́̍̐͗͑̊͊^̵̤̟̯͎͌̋̉͊͂̓̌̆͐͜͞)

_What do you think?_

“Your death?”  
(^̸̨̘̠̥̙͖̫̜̙̆͗̔͑̈́̂̕͡͝ͅ|̵̛̭̠̭͌͊͗̆̕͜ͅͅ*̴̨̢̤͕͙̗͙̥̰̦̿̌̄̀̃́*̢̢̛̩̹͙̃̌̿͂͑͢͠^̵̦̬͚̖͇̻̂̿͛͋̍̓͟ͅ ≮̱̼͕̯̮̣̫̪́̎̃͋̀͌̕͝|̖̖̝̤̻͎̟͎͓̈́͌̆̎̌̂͟͞~̵̢̱̼̼̜̳̰̗̒̉̂̑̀̓̊̇̎̒ͅ*̨͉͔͙̫̘̳͓̭͎̈́͆͊̇͡:̡͉̦̰̺̘̐̑͂̍͡͞)

_Among other things. Your technician is a monster._

“[Technician] is not at fault”  
("̴͖̖̜̬̲̰͑̐̎͌̑͊̿̚ ^̛̖͎̯̭̟̌̂̐̒̋́ͅ'͓̞̟̻́̎̇̉̉̉͢ _͇̞͚̩͔̞͕̙̺͊́̕͘͞ͅ'̴̡̱͙̭̮̏͐̾̒̎̿̕͘͡_̧̖̜̱̝̳͚̆͋̅͂͂̽̆̚͡L̷̛͔̻̰̱̺̱̂͊́̇̐~̵̟͙̯̣̦̂̉̑̋̌.͓͓̣̯͔̘̘̬̝̫͌̌͆̀͑̍͞-̢̧͎̺͎̤͐͆̊̎̑͐͘ͅ)

_So you’ve said._

“You are [irritated-emotional] about this”  
(<̡͖̯̰̳̺̟̇̌̏͗̑͒͗̑̏͟͡`̷̪͚͇̜̯̠̻̻̟̂̃̐͂͗̐̌͝͡͝;̧̯͔͎͉͎̩̪̀̀̑̃̐͘͘,̹͙͚͉̪͗̅͛͋͋ͅ_̯̙͙̣̮̙͚̥̃̄̊̔͐͊̃͜͢:̶͈͉̖̹̯̫̹̮̱̀̐̇̊̅̚͞ _̴̢̺̲̘͔͇͉͈͋͋̓͂̍̌̒͘͟"̛̣̦͙̗͓̤̯̽́̍́͘͟͠͡^̷͙̳̩̱̈̄̽̑̆͢~̵͕̱̱̟̘̬̗̙̮͒̆̇͑͑ ^̴̨̛͇̙̻͚̆̌̇̅̇̎͑̇͘͟ͅ`̵̹͙̞̳̝̾̽̏̆̂<̷̗̤̮̬̫̟̘͐̓͆͐̓̀̄͘/̷͕͕̙̗̬͗͌̏͆̐͑͊͆̒͜͝;̷̰̖̩̺̊̑̍͜͝"̛̗̝͉͉̗̝͚́̈͆̋̋͒͒̾̓͜)

_It took me apart twice, and the first time was. It. It was._

“You felt it”  
(^̴̞̝͇̼̹̦̊̽͗́̇̎̋̊͟͡v̸̨̧̬̖̰̿̇̒̽͝ '̵̛̥̭̪̞̣͖̗̃̽̾̋̄̋̊͟͞ͅ:̸̨̙̞̫͍̹͋͑̾̓̾̃͋̒̚͡)

…

“I am sorry”  
(;̵̡̛͙̘̗̜̓́̃̏̎̚̕͘^̜̗͖͕̥̿́̐͛̑^̧̬̲̫̘̳̫̲̽̋̓̊̔̈́̍̈́͠ͅͅ |̵̬̤͖̯̥̟̗͒̊̍̀̈̌̄͂͆͟;̷̛̠̲̮͎̰͖͐̓͑̎̉̓͟͟'͙̮̜̜̎͑̏͜͠.̦͇͎̭̣̪̉̋͒̂̊̉͆̽̈͜͜;̛̼̹̰̣̫̂͆́͂̍̋͞ "̺̩͎̜͍̤̣̽̇͂̅́͒̆̔̂|̵̡̯̫͖̝͕̥̟̌̈̓̔͐͡)

_I know.  
_ _How much longer until we’re out?_

“Completion time is uncertain. I had to manually [code-implement] from your genetic data,  
you are alien to the system. This is a fact I perceive as ironic”  
(|̢̳̭͕̝̟̫̹̐͊̈̍̋͘͢͠͞_̡̧̨̛̝̘̝̤̝͛̑͗̓̊̆̕͠,̨̨̦̠̖̈̓̈̑̂͢͜͝ͅ;̹͈̙̝̝̻͙͙̈̐̍̀̋̄͒͜͞'̶̢̨̩̟͎̮̲͙͔͚̅̄̾̒͌̄̒͊̕̚,̴̧̻̦̮̼̜̖͐̌́̍͑͋̅͑̚`̵̬̘͉̻̭̲̭̱̈͋͑̑̋͢ͅ /̸̱̼͍̹̣̤̜̣̐̽̍̿͂͠:̢̘̮̣̫̦̣̯̉̓͂́͌͟͞ͅ;̢̹̩͉͕̹̳̞̳͊͊̏̅͐̏͢`̗̣̞̼̜̮̈́̒̐̈͐͊͝͝|̬͎̰͎̙̻͍͍̲̱̏̆̋̿̎̕͡_̢̛̛̭̜̘̭̘̹̖̘́̏̏̅̓́̚͟͝,̤̯͎̪̥̤̺̑̔̈͗͊͌̐̚͜~̶̨͓̱̣̫̟̬͇̒̔̂̽͗ _̴̨̧̖̖͉̃̐͂̌͌̾͡:̡̧̣̳̰͈̞̀̿̆̅̀͞ͅ/̵̛͎̜̙̗͔͎̗̹̗̰̈́̏̃̍͂͒̕͡,̢̨͙͈̮̮̎͒͋̇͐ͅ*͙̣̰̳̰̩̯͐́̊̅̾͘̕͜v̸̡̡̳̙̤͙̎͊̃̇̉̃̈́̕v̴̨̯̹̗̪̣̆̂͆̌̽̇̕;̶̨̛̟͎̙̠̩̝̖̽̒̈̅̍͒̾͜ͅ≮̢̧̛̦͙͎̰̲̪̤̫̄͌̊̀͗͝͡/͙̥̠͚̻̟͙̙̩͋̒́̽̇̓̕`̸̙̟̭̯͎͕̤̠͊͋̓̌̏̕͟͞ ^̴̘̰̟̟̮̘̞̓̅̀̇̊͋̕͡͠J̶̧̩̹͙̼̖̜̀͋̐̒̌̚͢;̨̙͈̮̺͋̇̌̔̚͢͞͡'̶̨̡͕̯͖̖̟̺̓̾͆̇̉̈͛̌̏~̥̠͈̺̠̓͊͂̑̌̉̄̋̚͞'̷̛̜̬̙͍͈̤̞͌̂͆͒̊̚͢͟ͅ)

…

“Do your [species-culture] not have the concept of irony?”  
(`̵͔͕̝̯̺̥̥̟̦͂̾̃̓̚`̴̣̙͈͕͐͊̾͗͛̽́̕͜͢͞͠^̨̩̹́͊͌͑̊͒͜ͅ"̖͔̜͔̼̯̝̤̭̾̊̎̆̊̀̚ͅv̨̛͔̬͍̅͑̿͆̑͢͠͡͠|̞͎̘͉͕̼͎̮̜̙͆̾̒́̓̓͐̋͠/̸̡̺̣͕̳͓͌͗̂͗̓_̮̻͔͙͇̠̂̂̃̏̍͋_̷̨̛͖̥̯̞̤̒͆̈́͛̉͋̊~̧͎̼̘̺̜̯͚̖̘͛͋̆͑̓̔͛̚͝Ļ̢̩̭̼̞̗̱̥̄̈̚.̸̨͍̭̺͕̙̞̹͕̊̾̑̆̎̽͗̊̿͡~̤̰̱̠̲̎͑̒̆̊.̸̧̨̻̦̬̖̩̎̉̍̐̾͘̕͘͜͜͞;̵̳̬̤̯̟̂̓̌̐͒͐͗:̨̬̣̳̟̻̠̪̿͊̑̈̚͞)

_I know what irony is. I’m not in the mood for it._

“… I am sorry”  
(;̵̡̛͙̘̗̜̓́̃̏̎̚̕͘^̜̗͖͕̥̿́̐͛̑^̧̬̲̫̘̳̫̲̽̋̓̊̔̈́̍̈́͠ͅͅ |̵̬̤͖̯̥̟̗͒̊̍̀̈̌̄͂͆͟;̷̛̠̲̮͎̰͖͐̓͑̎̉̓͟͟'͙̮̜̜̎͑̏͜͠.̦͇͎̭̣̪̉̋͒̂̊̉͆̽̈͜͜;̛̼̹̰̣̫̂͆́͂̍̋͞ "̺̩͎̜͍̤̣̽̇͂̅́͒̆̔̂|̵̡̯̫͖̝͕̥̟̌̈̓̔͐͡)

_I know._

“If it is a potential comfort, I will remain in this place until you are complete.  
You will not be alone”  
(/̘̯̲̫͇̔̆̊̃̃̏<̲̟̫̹̙̭̥͍̔͐̿̋̚|̵̺̰̬̝̫̖͖̍̐͛̈́̅͆̆͟͞^̰̯͖̲̳͖́̐̿̀͘͟͟͝ͅ ^͚̗̖̩͌͋́͆͐̇̚͜͞ͅ"̶̧͍̣̪̻͖̤̦̣̓̋̌͊͞ͅ'̲͓̹̬̖͓̰̙̼͍̑̉̾̅̾̅͘͝,̴̡̥̝̗̫̭̝̬̼̃̊͑̒̿̐̏͋͟-̴̛̝͓̺̫͖̭̉̎̾̈́͗̋͢͝ `̸̣̗̱͉̣̂̇͋̈́̈́ͅ*̶̢̤̠̦̯̥͕̫̱̏́̐̆̑͡͞"̧̘̺̬̀̍̊͌̒͆̐͢͠͡.̢̜̭̳͙̟̳̥̀̋̆̒̅͜͞ͅ_̵̢̤̳̳̖̩͖̞̄̀̔̚͡ͅ_̬̪̯͓̭̺̇̇̈́̾͊)

_Please, just. Just finish it so I can go home._

  
("I am sorry")  
(;̵̡̛͙̘̗̜̓́̃̏̎̚̕͘^̜̗͖͕̥̿́̐͛̑^̧̬̲̫̘̳̫̲̽̋̓̊̔̈́̍̈́͠ͅͅ |̵̬̤͖̯̥̟̗͒̊̍̀̈̌̄͂͆͟;̷̛̠̲̮͎̰͖͐̓͑̎̉̓͟͟'͙̮̜̜̎͑̏͜͠.̦͇͎̭̣̪̉̋͒̂̊̉͆̽̈͜͜;̛̼̹̰̣̫̂͆́͂̍̋͞ "̺̩͎̜͍̤̣̽̇͂̅́͒̆̔̂|̵̡̯̫͖̝͕̥̟̌̈̓̔͐͡)


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another double update!

_Species 021A-021M  
_ _Official name: Novis niteo piceus (A-M)  
_ _Laymen name: Glow Beetle_

_The glow beetles are similar to Earth’s Hydrophilidae family of Coleoptera (also referred to as water scavenger beetles). This is an odd species, given they do not live in aquatic habitats despite their hydrophobic shell and air-trapping hairs on their legs._

_The beetles range from 5-15 cm long and 4-12 cm at their widest. They are an off-white colouration during the day with a transparent shell atop their body. At night however, they produce a bright bioluminescent glow from their abdomen. In addition to bioluminescence, these beetles are also capable of producing acoustics by rubbing specialized ridges along their underside._

_The glow beetles are separated into 13 distinct sub-species, using the letters A through M as category distinctions. The differences between these subspecies includes the specific chemicals used in their bioluminescence which create different forms of light._

_At night, this collection of beetles create a wide hue of lighting, which when reflected off the grass (see page 110), provides sufficient lighting for exploration teams to see without the need for flashlights (it is still recommended flashlights be used for optimum visibility)_

_We will now go into detail of each subspecies and their unique colourations and sound combinations, as well as their different behaviours…_

-Excerpt from page 45 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

In all, it had been easy to accept the mission without the others knowing. There’d been a time when he’d sneak off to deal with Hydra on his own, and as a concession to Steve he’d allowed Jarvis to act as his operator- they didn’t use _handler_ in this household- to keep an eye on him while also maintaining privacy.

He’d stopped doing missions alone years ago, but the protocols were still in place, and as long as the others didn’t try to visit him they wouldn’t be any wiser. Of course, if he got into any kind of serious trouble Jarvis would notify them automatically, but he’d already be in the middle of the zone by the time that happened.

Before the sun had even risen he was shaved and showered, geared up, and riding out on his bike. The city turned into the suburbs turned into forest, and the sky was just turning light as he hit the marked dirt road that would lead to the zone’s border. He hit seven checkpoints on the way, but they waved him by with the flick of his ID.

Everything moved fast. He met with the liaison at the main border tower, who took him in a jeep to the entry site. The military escort was already there, geared up and waiting for the science team. A few tried to strike up awkward conversation, but his replies were curt and didn’t invite anything more.

The science team arrived shortly after that, and Bucky didn’t miss the wide berth they gave him. Mike in particular was keeping away. Smart man.

“We’re ready to head out when you are” Hu said, putting the last of her equipment in the jeep and nodding to the officer in charge. He nodded in turn and addressed his men.

“Y’all know what we’re doin’ here, what the plan and contingencies are” he said. “Let’s keep it tight, in an’ out, y’hear?”

He turned and made his way to the lead jeep, the others moving to their assigned vehicles. He cast a glance at Bucky and nodded once, to which Bucky tilted his head. He joined with the other grunts and one scientist- Guo?- and quietly tucked in. The ride would be a little over an hour with the terrain. They were following one of the many paths made by Slasher, a convenient little backroad of flattened debris and minimal blockades. I would even be level at some points.

He tuned out the radio chatter as they started their expedition, instead keeping his eyes focused on the scenery. It was only just beginning to get into fall, but outside it looked like the end of the season. Every tree was dead and bare, the ground littered with shriveled black and brown plants. If he looked hard enough he could see the dead bugs in the mess, vibrant and lifeless. On occasion they’d pass the carcass of a larger bug, the shell cracked open and hollow like a broken statue.

His eyes would snap sharply at the slightest hint of movement, but each time it turned out to be harmless. Mostly birds picking at something, and the one tree falling over, the foundations no longer supported by the invasive plants that had weakened it in the first place.

It was a dead and bleak world outside. Nobody tried to pull him into conversation, and the journey passed easily enough.

The caravan eventually stopped about a mile from the Seed, just outside of the electronic dead zone. They’d have to go on foot from here, leaving their electronics behind to avoid the dead weight.

“Hey doc” one of the grunts asked as they packed up their radios, “this isn’t any kind of radiation, is it?”

Dr. Hu shook her head. “It’s a heavy electrostatic field, non-ionizing. The worst we should get is about two kilovolts of discharge; that won’t even set off your ammunition”

Bucky paused. The excursion brief had said not to bring any electronics, and those with pacemakers were banned from joining for their own safety, but nobody had put any thought into prosthetics- and why would they? The protocols had been written with military personnel in mind, the pacemaker added for the scientists’ sake. Of course Bucky’s limb would slip through the cracks. He surreptitiously looked down at his metal arm, covered by his jacket and grip glove, wondering if it would become a problem…

 _Ah, fuck it._ Too late now. Wasn’t like that was going to stop him anyway.

The trip on foot was more unnerving than the ride. In the jeeps they at least had the engines and radio chatter, but out here it was dead and muted. Their footsteps crunched with each step, and though they caught the gurgle of a stream at one point, there was no other sounds. No birds came this far in, and without any leaves to rustle, the breeze passed them only as a hollow ghost of noise.

The soldiers would call out to check in with each other a little more than necessary, and the researchers kept making observations to each other that sounded old-hat to Bucky, but it did the job of filling the silence.

Bucky stayed quiet at the back, taking it all in apprehensively. He couldn’t help but feel it was a calm before the storm, but that could’ve just been his nerves talking. They were entering Slasher’s home, everyone was bound to be keyed up.

Fifteen minutes into the trek and Bucky was really starting to feel the static. All the little hairs on his body stood up uncomfortably, and the plates kept snapping at random.

He wasn’t the only one effected though. Ahead of him, Dr. Guo swore as one of the soldiers accidentally brushed up against him and caused a shock. It happened three more times before everyone became careful of how close they got to each other.

Bucky cast another glance around, hypervigilant in the alien environment. All around them were the husks of life, their vibrant colours making a psychedelic mishmash on the ground. Here was a neon blue centipede, there was a bright yellow beetle, over there a pair of orange-green grubs locked in their death throes. All of them contrasted by the stark black of the dead lilac plants that outnumbered everything. It created such a vivid collage that it burned spots in his vision when he looked away.

Then, before he knew it, they were coming up at the Seed.

It didn’t appear all at once- it was hard to when the trees were so bare. The thing was foreboding with its rounded shape, a solid and dirty brown that was impossible to miss. The reports put it at about four storeys tall, but its alien nature made it loom even higher. Seeing now, he could compare it to a giant almond.

_Ain’t that just the nuttiest thing you ever seen?_

He suppressed the nervous laugh the bubbled in his chest at the stray thought. He felt like he was fraying at the edges the closer they got-

_Pop!_

At the sound of gunfire the scientists all yelled and ducked, and every gun was raised in an instant, eyes scanning for the threat.

“Shit! Sorry, sorry!” one of the grunts was saying, tucking his gun down. There was a litany of curses and annoyed glares as everyone lowered their weapons.

He mumbled through his explanation, that a branch had snapped and fallen and he’d reacted without thought. His CO let it slide with a sharp order to _get it together, we ain’t makin’ this a shitshow_.

Bucky wasn’t the only one whose nerves were shot it seemed.

They broke through the last of the sparse trees, entering the crash site. The impact had leveled the area and knocked everything down, and Slasher had trampled whatever had been left standing. He could see its tracks clearly, overlapping and crisscrossing in the tilled dirt.

They took a minute for the researchers to grab soil samples and scribble in their notebooks, but without electronics they didn’t have much else to test with. Not even cameras to take pictures. It made things move quicker at least.

When they got to the Seed itself, they wasted twenty minutes attempting to collect samples of the gnarled surface, which proved to be impossible. Chisels and picks came out only to scrape ineffectively off the surface. The added use of a hammer didn’t help any- it was more solid than it looked.

The scientists whispered amongst themselves, and Bucky grit his teeth when he saw them cast furtive looks at him. He could take a guess at what their next plan was going to be, and cursed internally.

“Sergeant Barnes, do you think you could-”

“No”

“But with your strength, maybe-”

“ _No_ ”

He leveled a deathly glare at them, hoping that it would be enough to stop them before questions got asked. They didn’t need to know his mechanical arm had gone dead the moment he stepped in the clearing, and clearly the thought hadn’t crossed their mind as a possibility. His only saving grace was it had locked in a resting position over his gun, leaving nobody the wiser.

The researchers let it drop unhappily, and they moved on.

They circled around until they reached the giant hole coming out the side. The soldiers at the front did a cursory inspection before allowing the scientists to get close, and they quietly marveled at what they saw.

“Look at the indentations, like it was chewed through”

“The marks go outward, it must’ve been something _inside_ that came out”

“You think it was Slasher? The opening’s exactly wide enough for it”

“Has to be, I can’t think of anything else with a jaw strength to break through this material”

And on they went, bouncing ideas off each other and taking notes. They got out another set of chisels and managed to break off a decent sample from the inner walls where pieces of it were already chipped. After they finished, the lot of them took a moment to peer into the darkness- a brief stillness before the next step.

“You got the most experience outta all of us” the officer in charge said to Bucky, motioning for him to go first. Him and another soldier got in position at his rear flanks to accompany.

Bucky nodded and reached into one of his multitude of pockets to pull out a small bundle of industrial-grade glow sticks. He popped the end of one into his mouth like it was a cigarette. While the other two snapped theirs normally, he clamped down with his teeth and leverage his hand to bend the stick sharply, activating the green glow. One of the soldiers huffed at the move, probably thought he was trying to look tough and not knowing he couldn’t move his other goddamn arm to do this.

With their lights clipped on, Bucky led them in. They moved slowly to give their eyes time to adjust, the chemical glow at first negligible but becoming more necessary as they went deeper. The tunnel curved sharply to the right and cut into pure darkness.

They tossed a few sticks ahead of them in a spaced-out trail, marking the way and checking ahead at the same time. They all had their weapons at the ready, and though it wasn’t ideal, Bucky could still handle his with one arm.

The tunnel made another sharp turn back to the left, and they all paused when they rounded the corner. The end was clear to see, opening wide.

“ _Holy hell_ ” someone muttered behind him.

Beyond the opening was an alien jungle filled with thriving plants and insects, illuminated by the natural glow of the many-coloured beetles that lit up like fireflies. Bugs of all manner crawled between the plants. Heavy webs of what looked like lichen hung down from the ceiling with more insects crawling between the folds. He could hear them, their little _click-clacking_ of feet and shell.

So much life, and this was only what they could see from the entrance.

“We hold here, bring the geeks and reassess” the commanding officer decided. “Hillcock, run back and tell the others, we’ll hold position”

The other soldier nodded and made her way back, leaving them to stand watch as the bugs went on with their business, ignoring them for now.

Bucky wondered what lay beyond the thicket, and whether it would bring him any kind of answer.

  
(Inner-Seed opening, artist rendition, coloured)


	31. Chapter 31

_Species 022  
_ _Official name: Novis lithobius adamas  
_ _Laymen name: Diamond Centipede_

_The diamond centipede is similar to that of_ _Earth’s_ _Chilopoda_ _class o_ _f the_ _Lithobiomorpha_ _order_ _(_ _stone centipedes_ _)._ _Like Earth-native centipedes, they posses bodies varying from 15-25 segments, with one pair of legs per segment._

_Diamond centipedes reach lengths of 5-16cm, and appear a_ _pale white with an_ _opalescent_ _sheen, as well as_ _clear, translucent_ _growths that resemble diamonds, hence the name. These growths were found to be extensions of its exoskeleton_ _that contain_ _high_ _volumes of quartz minerals._

_T_ _hese centipedes have been observed feeding on all manner of plants and organisms, however, it is unknown how much of_ _its_ _diet is natural and how much is part of its erratic behaviour,_ _as t_ _he_ _y_ _display the most counter-intuitive habits_ _of all Seed-native organisms_ _, often to their own detriment._

_Acts include self-cannibalization, spasmodic movement, and an inability to recognize the presence of food, resulting in starvation. The continued survival of this species has been linked with its excessive asexual reproduction._

_We have deemed the diamond centipede to pose minimal threat to life on Earth. Due to its potential to exit the Occupied Zone in a fit of random movement, any individuals seen inside the cleared border should be destroyed on sight._

-Excerpt from page 51 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

“Huh” was all Mike had to say when he saw the alien forest at first.

“The plants look much healthier. You think the interior mimics their natural biome?”

“It must be an isolated system if the extinction event didn’t reach them here”

Bucky easily fought the need to pace, but the urge nagged at the back of his mind as his eyes kept cutting to every bit of movement barely ten feet away. The scientists had come to _ooh_ and _aah_ at the discovery and set the whole squadron on edge with their sudden carelessness. Twice they had to be told to take a step back before something bit them, or worse.

Bucky didn’t much care one way or another, his apathy the last remnants of his hatred for them, but he’d try his best to keep them alive anyway, if only so the exploration wasn’t cut short- and because it was the decent thing to do, he grudgingly added.

He still didn’t know what he was hoping to achieve here, but as long as they kept going there was still a chance for _something_. He just needed them to finish their appraising so they could actually go and see what was inside.

There was a last scribble in his notes, and Mike finally gave the go-ahead for them to start going deeper.

Again Bucky was asked to take point. He waited for the others to get in position, the scientists joining this time with the soldiers surrounding them protectively.

A last nod of confirmation from the CO at his back, and then Bucky was blazing a trail ahead.

The first step past the opening had his boot sinking into soil soft enough to be peat. He felt a crinkling in the air as he went through the threshold, and suddenly he was hit with the smell of damp earth and… fresh air. In fact, it felt fresher than what he’d been breathing outside..

He pushed beyond the large fanned leaves blocking the way and ducked under the low-hanging nets of lichen, careful not to let it touch him. He wearily eyed the bugs that kept crawling everywhere. He could recognize that none were changing course towards him, but neither were any getting out of his way, and he took care to avoid crossing their paths when they intercepted.

“Holy- did you feel that?”

“Like an electrostatic wall-”

“And the atmosphere change! I bet it’s maintaining the environment-”

Bucky tuned out the excited chatter and paused, eyes narrowed at the movement at his feet. All around him were more of those orange fern-looking plants, and the second he’d stepped among them they all shuddered.

With smooth speed they started to furls their leaves, their stems curling tightly until all that was left were little orange balls in the soil. Like a chain reaction, more followed suit. Bucky watched on with a tight feeling in his stomach as very _specific_ ferns closed while others didn’t.

The folded ferns had created a conveniently laid path for him, clear of any other obstacles. The unfolded plants stood open and still, bordering like flowerbeds with vibrant springs of purple and large bulbs of green dispersed between them. He followed the new path with his eyes until it disappeared around a mound of especially large melon plants that sat taller than him.

_Follow the orange-brick road! Come see the great Wizard of Oz!_

He didn’t know why it was Steve’s voice that spoke the ridiculous thought. He didn’t like the comparison, and he didn’t think he’d like the wizard at the end of this road.

“It’s a _path_ ” Mike breathed in awe behind him. He’d pushed ahead of the line and joined Bucky at the front, taking in the scenery. “And it’s- the glow beetle lights! It’s colour coded!”

Now that it was pointed out, Bucky took notice of how the technicolour of glowing beetles started to take on a design. On the path there were a multitude of bugs crossing, but now he was seeing how the orange glowing beetles walked along the edges, reminding him of emergency lights at the side of roads. Beyond the path the other glowing beetles showed no interest, the blue-greens and the yellows and the reds off on some other business.

“It really is a system, an actual intelligent _system_ ” Mike said in wonder, pulling out his notebook and writing down what he saw.

Hu leaned down a pulled out a small container to scoop one of the bugs into. She held it close and squinted, then handed it to Mike.

“The coin beetles are showing similar patterning to the last generation we saw. Clean lines and everything” she noted as he examined the specimen. “This whole place could be a new generation”

“We can get samples on the way out; we should see where this goes first. Let’s not waste our containers if there’s something further in”

“You’re suggesting we follow this path?”

Mike nodded. “It must be the path Slasher takes when it comes and goes, the plants know to close when they sense movement. This’ll likely take us through Slasher’s most common route in here, it should be the safest path from any hazards”

_It’_ _ll also take_ _us directly to Slasher_ , but Bucky didn’t voice that thought aloud. Slasher or no, he needed to see what was at the end of this.

It didn’t mean he had to be careless though.

“We move slowly and keep together. We stay on the path like the man said: it’ll guarantees no surprises at our feet. I want someone to keep eyes on the back, we’re effectively surrounded and I don’t want any surprises” Bucky said. The lead officer echoed the orders to the rest of the unit, and then gave a stern warning to the scientists to stay in formation.

Slowly, Bucky took them forward. All around the alien life went on, clacking and chirping and rustling leaves. The glowing beetles at the edges of the path lit the floor for them to see, and he was constantly spotting bugs making their way across like hurried jaywalkers. He had to stop more than once to wait for the bigger ones, at one point all of them gawking as one of those bright-red spider things on stilt legs- so tall that the little body towered a good five feet above them- went by.

The scientists kept pointing out things they found interesting, new bugs or plants they’d never seen, or familiar ones that had changed size or colour. They fawned at the interior wall when they spotted little holes between the black lilacs with strange caterpillars crawling in and out of them, or the mass of urchins feasting on the remains of a deer-sized beetle.

Then the path took them around another corner and ended abruptly. Bucky felt a swooping feeling in his gut as he stopped, raising his arm up in a fist to halt the unit. The two directly behind him sidled up with their weapons raised and tensed when they saw what had stopped him.

Ahead was a cleared space. The plants were sparse, none coming higher than their ankles, and the nets of lichen didn’t hang so low, creating the feel of a cavernous room. Several deep pools of liquid sat in the area, so still they looked like mirrors on the floor. The bugs here were also fewer in numbers, consisting mostly more orange glow beetles with a few splashes of white among them. On the opposite end of this space, however, was exactly what he’d been expecting to see: Slasher.

It sat still and ominous, nearly invisible in the dark if the sheen of its shell didn’t reflect the low glow. The head sat front and forward, the rest of it coiled behind. The orange played off its eyes like a demonic fire. The lip of its shell was slightly raised, and he could see the slow movement of little saw blades rubbing their smooth sides against each other, like it was sharpening them.

“ _Put your guns down_ _!_ ” Bucky hissed. Against Slasher they’d be ineffective at best, and agitating at worst. The bugs were minding their own business, they didn’t need to incite anything right now.

The soldiers lowered their guns, and they all stood like that for a good five minutes before Bucky took another cautious step forward. Slasher kept up its little honing movements under its mouth, but stayed still otherwise. He heard gasps behind him as the others moved forward and saw Slasher too.

The more he moved, the more he felt confident Slasher wouldn’t just kill them all on sight. Not yet at least. For all he knew it was sleeping and would come awake and eat them all.

But for now, with the threat not so pressing, Bucky could take in more details of the space.

Off to the side of the room hung two huge… sacs, was the best word he could use for them. They were dark and leathery, hanging from the ceiling by thick and veined cords. Squarish in shape with rounded corners and tapered edges, they looked bloated and fit to burst- like a pair of hanging IV bags.

On the other side of the room was a different sight that made the air in Bucky’s lungs freeze. Mounted on the wall were three skulls.

Each had a different etched pattern, but their base shapes were the same. They’d come from the same breed of creature, some ugly things from the shape of them. A long and flat skull with large eyes set far apart. The mouth was wide and gaping, little needle-sharp teeth lining the edges. A huge crone-like bone with two slits for nostrils stuck out where the nose would be, giving the overall impression of a goblin.

They weren’t the skull of anything Bucky could recognize, but he could take a guess at what had put them there. He’d held a similar skull not too long ago. Had his world caved in by it-

_Don’t._

Bucky mentally shook the thought away before it lead anywhere.

It still put him off though. Sitting in a neat row like that, they looked like hunting trophies. He shuddered at what their true purpose could be.

He stopped halfway into the cavernous clearing, the others close behind him. All of them were hushed.

“I’ve never seen it so still. I’ve never seen it this _close_ ” Mike said quietly.

“You think it’s asleep?” Guo whispered.

“I think we’re close enough” one of the grunts muttered, and Bucky heard a ripple of hushed agreements from the rest of the soldiers.

“Let’s grab samples from the soil and pools, then head back. We shouldn’t stay here too long” Hu said tensely.

Bucky stood where he was as they quietly stepped up to the pools and collected samples. The others had their hands gripped tight on their guns, but they kept them pointed down like Bucky had told them to.

Mike gasped as he leaned over one of the pools. “Oh, there’s something swimming in here!” he whispered excitedly. “They _do_ have aquatic species. Something about our water must be inadequate-”

_Mrrrrrrr._

Slasher let out a deep hum, setting everyone on edge. The scientists stood abruptly and retreated back into the fold of soldiers, who all had their weapons raised again.

Slasher hadn’t changed its movements, and the noise died after another second, but it was enough to spook everyone.

“I think that’s enough for this trip” the officer in charge said, indicating for them to back out.

“No, wait” Mike said, eyes turned up.

Bucky followed his gaze to see more glow beetles crawling on the ceiling. They were the ones with the white light, and they were all converging in the same direction- towards the two sacs hanging by the wall.

The other soldiers gamely held their positions while shifting anxiously, but Bucky didn’t share their nerves at this point. He felt rooted to the spot as he watched, fixated, as the bugs crawl over each other. Something was happening, and he prayed it was the thing he sought so desperately, the answer to his meaningless pain.

They descended the fleshy cords that the sacs hung from and disappeared around the back of them, out of sight if not for the glowing white shining beyond. More joined the mass, their collective light growing brighter and brighter, until it looked like someone had set up floodlights behind the dark pouches-

_wait for me I will be back_

Bucky dropped his gun. All the scientists gasped. Some of the soldiers swore in a mix of disbelief and confusion.

_wait for me I will be back_

Steve’s last message cut through his mind as the lights brightened enough to shine through, illuminating the contents inside. On the left was an indistinct shape of some curled creature; he could see a blurred mass at the center with a pair of awkwardly long legs poking out like a bird’s, and an even longer tail that curled back into itself.

What had him struck, however, was the shape inside the sac on the right. He walked forward, entranced, until he was suddenly standing right in front of it. With a shaky hand he reached out and touched it, feeling the taut leathery flesh under his palm. It radiated a sleepy warmth.

_wait for me I will be back_

Inside was a recognizable outline: one of man, of _human_ , free-floating and upright, the knees slightly bent and the shoulders relaxed. Thick lines fed into the body, some at the head and others into the abdomen like a perverse collection of umbilical cords.

_wait for me I will be back_

Slasher hummed again, and the glowing bugs retreated, slowly taking the light with them until Bucky was left staring at a dark flesh once more. He turned to look at the insect horror, seeing it watch him impassively.

He turned back to the black cradle and lost strength in his legs. He sat down hard, his ass sinking into the soft dirt under him. His ears were ringing. His chest was caving in.

_wait for me I will be back_

A hand touched his shoulder, and he had a handgun unholstered and aimed back at whoever was behind him.

“I ain’t leaving” he managed to say, and the touch disappeared hastily.

He sat there and saw spots in his vision. They blended with the dark flesh that hung above him, making him dizzy with it.

_wait for me I will be back_

* * *

EXPEDITION TEAM: _THIS IS L-G-2-3-9 TO BASE. OVER._

BASE COMMAND: _THIS IS BASE N-R-9-9-7-2. REQUEST STATUS REPORT. OVER._

EXPEDITION TEAM: _STATUS GREEN. RETURNING TO BASE. BARNES IS BACK AT THE SEED, WILL NOT BE JOINING. OVER._

BASE COMMAND: _SAY AGAIN, REPEAT LAST_ _LINE_ _._

EXPEDITION TEAM: _I SAY AGAIN: BARNES IS BACK AT THE SEED, WILL NOT BE JOINING. OVER._

BASE COMMAND: _CLARIFY MEANING. OVER._

EXPEDITION TEAM: _BARNES REFUSED TO LEAVE, BECAME UNCOOPERATIVE. SITUATION TOO HOT TO ENGAGE. BARNES LEFT BEHIND. OVER._

BASE COMMAND: _ROGER. RETURN TO BASE FOR DEBRIEF. OVER._

EXPEDITION TEAM: _WILCO, OUT._

-Excerpt of transcript from the radio transmissions of Expedition Team LG-239

  
(Vesicle pouch found within inner-Seed chamber, artist rendition, sketch)


	32. Chapter 32

_Methods of destroying Slasher have all proven ineffective, and as such, a method of containment is the next viable option._

_Resistance to various poisons have shown Slasher possesses either an immunity to such toxins, a hyperactive metabolism, or an effective biological filtration system._

_The series of poisons used in attempts to kill Slasher, however, were categorized as pesticides, fungicides, and germicides. We are proposing attempting to subdue Slasher with sedative substances, including barbiturates, general anesthetics, muscle relaxants, and opioids._

_In addition to testing the effectiveness of these substances, we can take advantage of shifting weather patterns. Winter temperatures can reach as low as -15 C°; cold enough to put even the hardiest of insects into a hibernation state. Similar effects may be seen with Slasher._

_There are several locations that provide ideal relocation points, primarily in the northern and southern poles where continuous low temperatures would help negate Slasher’s movements, as well as keep it in an isolated environment. This extreme isolation may also offer starvation as another means to effectively kill this organism._

-Excerpt of Section 6, Project Ripley, page 18, now deemed obsolete

* * *

Bucky eventually calmed and came back to himself. He blinked and looked down, seeing the glow stick at his belt, drastically faded but still giving off a light. He’d been here less than ten hours then, but that was about all he could tell.

His eyes skated over to the six glowing beetles sitting around him, giving him more illumination than the faded stick at this point. They were cleaning their front legs with their mandibles and didn’t seem interested in interacting with Bucky, and a cursory look showed nothing had crawled onto his person in the time he’d been out. Small blessings in this place.

He turned to where Slasher had last been, and there it still stood. It watched on, looming over its domain.

A sad laugh escaped his throat. This was the stupidest thing Bucky had ever done, no qualms about it. He’d walked right into the lair of the beast and sat himself at its feet on a shoestring of hope.

By now Jarvis would’ve told the others- failure to return from a mission meant backup had to be called- and even if Jarvis didn’t, the people back at base would report this to the Avengers anyway.

He was under no illusion that they’d mount a ‘rescue’, come here in person and haul his ass away. Probably load him with sedatives too, he didn’t see how they’d get him out otherwise. They’d probably get Natasha to inject them, she was fast enough to do it. Would he them fight to stay? Would he wake in Hulk’s room when it was over?

It didn’t matter; nothing mattered but the person that hung in front of him, and the hope that person represented.

He shifted and got more comfortable, moved his dead arm into his lap so it didn’t pull on his shoulder. He had a canteen and enough protein bars to keep him functional for three uncomfortable days, a week if he didn’t move- but that was a childish hope. He’d be lucky if he got a day here before they took him away.

_I will be back_

He’d wait as long as he could.

* * *

The minutes blended into hours, and it was quite possibly the most lively stakeout he’d ever done. Bugs moved past him constantly, and he ended up observing quite a number of interesting things:

A line of over twenty yellow beetles approached in single file, only to divert when they got to him, detouring around and resuming their straight path.

One of the long-legged red spiders came and stepped into a pool, disappearing underneath only to re-emerge a moment later with a bundle of white roots gripped in its mouth.

A dog-sized beetle trundled up to Slasher, and he watched as it was eaten. Later, four smaller copies of that beetles crawled out of Slasher’s mouth, the size of Bucky’s fist, and went single file back out to the jungle of plants.

Those little coin beetles crawled out from small holes near the top of each sac at random intervals, moving down and dropping from the bottom, then crawling away to who-knew-where.

But most notable of all was that every hour or two, by Bucky’s estimate at least, Slasher would make that loud, vibrating hum. A swarm of glowing beetles would then congregate at the sacs, lighting up the back for Bucky to see the outlines inside.

He didn’t know what it was for or why it was happening, but he was grateful for it. Each time he’d stand and press his hand up to the skin of it, feel the warmth and watching for any movement from the floating figure.

Each time before the lights came he’d think, _maybe I imagined it, maybe I’m seeing what I want to see_ , but then each time he was proven wrong. The shape inside was human from head to toe, no room for misinterpretation. The other one not so much, but that wasn’t a concern for him right now.

Once he tried tapping on the hanging bag like it was a fish tank, but nothing happened. He considered taking his knife to it at one point, but then worried that what he cut out of there would kill his hope, and he decided against it just as fast.

He felt like one of the skulls on the wall, sitting still and staring ahead. He’d look at them every once in a while, imagining the creatures they’d come from. Had they been victims of these bugs too? Hapless beasts that wandered in? Or intelligent maybe? Space explorers that landed on the meteor and investigated the fascinating innards, only to be peeled and eaten. Or maybe this had been _their_ home and the bugs were the intruders

Something to think about.

His first glow stick had long since gone dark, and he only cracked a second to help tell time better. With all the glowing beetles still hanging around, he could see everything just fine.

The stick was only just beginning to fade again when he heard the hushed sounds of people approaching. Fourteen hours was a decent response time, he thought.

He didn’t move when he sensed them behind him. There was a pause as they took in Slasher’s presence, and then Sam was the first to speak.

“Hey Bucky, you doing okay?”

He shrugged. “Good enough”

“Don’t suppose you wanna come back with us, huh?”

“Not especially”

Sam hummed. The whole thing sounded painfully casual.

Bucky turned to face them. He wasn’t shocked to see Clint and Natasha there, but he was a little surprised by Mike and the handful of soldiers. Of course, they were loaded up with larger containers for samples- made sense they’d tag along for the chance at more data.

The lack of Tony was also unexpected, but then he remembered his dead arm, and there was no way for Tony to come without both himself and his arc reactor dying. He must’ve been upset to miss this, but maybe relieved would be more accurate.

The team looked a little off without all their equipment: Sam without his flight pack, Natasha without her bites, Clint… well, his setup worked without the tech, but his lack of hearing aids were noticeable.

He also noted Sam was packing more equipment: extra packs at his belt, a larger bag on his back. Bucky sussed out it was extra medical equipment fairly quickly when he spotted a collapsible board strapped to Sam’s back, brought in case they needed to carry someone unconscious. Three guesses for who that was for.

“Did they tell you?” Bucky asked. Did they at least understand why he couldn’t leave?

“Yeah” Sam said. “You think it’s him” he indicated the ballooning sac.

It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway.

“You know it’s not safe here” Natasha said. Also not a question.

“I don’t care”

“Would you consider waiting outside?” Sam asked, but he looked like he already knew the answer.

“I want to be here” Bucky told them, sounding broken to his own ears. It didn’t stop him from adding on; “I’m _choosing_ to be here”

He saw the pained expression that gave them.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Mike spoke up in the ensuing silence, “this was primarily a retrieval, but, uh, obviously since I’m here, we also came for more samples. And, uh, I was wondering if, if you saw anything of note while you’ve been… sitting here, that we should know about. For sample taking”

“Fuck off” Bucky said flatly. He turned to his friends, feeling weary as he spoke. “I ain’t leaving, but I won’t fight you” he said, deciding last-minute that he couldn’t bring himself to go against them like that. Not here in this place of calm nightmares.

They’d either drug him or not, and with all his heart he hoped they didn’t. God, he wished they didn’t.

He turned to face the sacs again, unable to bear looking away as much as he was unable to face his friends. He turned his eyes up to resume his watch for however long that might last him now.

_Mrrrrrrr._

The others jumped and looked to Slasher with worry, but Bucky kept his gaze ahead.

 _Come on, show him to me. Show me,_ he pleaded internally. One last look before he went.

Except, there were no beetles crawling down from the ceiling this time, and Bucky felt himself be crushed-

-but only for a second.

His eyes widened when he saw thick fluid start to drip from the bottom of both sacs, pooling into sludge on the dirt below. Coin beetles started to pour out from the top in droves, falling to the ground and getting stuck in the growing mud.

Bucky stood abruptly and took several steps back, eyes turned up to the snapping sound above. The cords that the bags hung from were breaking, little strands snapping free like a frayed rope until both dropped to the ground with muted thumps. The impact ruptured whatever hole had started leaking, and a wave of honey-smelling liquid spilled out, washing over the toes of his boots.

The people behind him let out varying yells and exclamations. Bucky picked out Sam’s _what the hell?_ and Mike’s _holy shit!_ in the fray and ignored them, solely focused on the sight in front of him.

Had he done something wrong? Had he _not_ done something? Was it the new people? Or was this all supposed to be happening?

The sacs were quickly deflating, and the skins shrank down until they were suctioned against the shapes inside. He heard Sam and Clint’s quiets gasps, Natasha’s sharp intake of breath, because it was one thing to hear about it, and another to actually see the human shape inside. To see it starting to _shift_.

Like the cord that held them, the skins started to creak. The edges where the seams met curled and broke apart like burning paper shriveling inward. Like dead flowers blooming.

They opened simultaneously and both bodies start moving, struggling to break out. Bucky ignored the one on the left and went straight for the man, kneeling down in the wet and helping him pull off the last of the coverings.

The man sat up and scrabbled desperately at the thick growth covering his face where fleshy tubes fed in. He had a shock of short blond hair that lay flat from the fluids, and Bucky felt the spark of hope in him igniting into a flame.

He hesitated to touch, unsure of what to do, but the man had it handled. He got a hold of the constricting mask’s edges and _pulled_ , prying the thing slowly as the tubes that fed into it kept coming.

Some sort of noise came out of Bucky’s throat when he saw the man’s face, _Steve’s_ face, underneath. Gaunt and pale and _alive_.

The tubes went through the mask and into his mouth and nostrils- a thin one fed into the corner of his eyes, and they all slowly came out as he pulled, inch by inch. He made a choking noise and then the last of it fell away, flopping carelessly into the muck.

Steve heaved a huge breath and started hacking out more of the fluids, eyes screwed shut as he curled forwards and retched into his lap. Bucky put his hand on Steve’s back and rubbed, more on instinct than anything, breathing shakily as he felt the warm skin under his palm. Felt the shaking as he coughed. Felt the beating of a heart underneath.

Out of the corner of his eye something big scurried by, and he heard a splash as the second body retreated into the nearest pool in a blur. He paid it no mind.

He rubbed Steve’s back until the coughing died down, but kept his hand where it was, unable to stop touching him.

Steve brought a hand up and wiped at his eyes, blinking blearily.

“Steve?” Bucky asked, because he had to know, had to hear it confirmed.

Steve turned to Bucky, face confused until recognition replaced his features. “Bucky? How- what’re you doing here?” he asked, running a hand through his hair to slick it out of his face. His voice was hoarse and scratchy, but undoubtedly Steve’s.

“It’s you” he breathed out wetly, and Steve’s face softened. Bucky reached out and pulled him in, wrapping his arm around Steve and holding him close against his chest, uncaring of how it soaked his clothes.

“Yeah, it’s me” Steve said, curling his arms and returning the embrace.

“It’s you” Bucky said again, quieter.

  
(Unidentified skull seen within inner-Seed chamber, artist rendition, sketch)


	33. Chapter 33

_Species 027  
_ _Official name:_ _Novis_ _apscondi_ _mytilus  
_ _Laymen name: Truffle Clam_

_The truffle clam is similar to Earth’s Mollusca Bivalvia class (also known as mussels). They appear an unassuming brown colour and vary from 3-8 cm at the widest._

_These organisms are not capable of locomotion, and spend the entirety of their life buried at depths of 20 cm, feeding on microbes in the soil._

_It is unknown how these organisms have spread themselves throughout the Occupied Zone, but theories include aid from the cherry-picker (see page 22), or an adhesive coating on their eggs allowing them to attach to other organisms and be dispersed._

_We have deemed the truffle clam to pose minimal threat to both the environment and life on Earth, and it is unlikely to spread beyond the Occupied Zone._

-Excerpt from page 69 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

They sat in each others embrace for a full ten seconds before the others were coming over.

“Steve? _Jesus_ , are you okay?” Sam asked.

“What just happened?” Clint asked.

“What was- what _was_ that?” Mike asked, gaping at the pool that was still rippling.

“Sir, I recommend we return _right now_ ” one of the soldiers said.

Bucky wanted to hold Steve forever, but he reluctantly pulled off when Steve gently pushed. He frowned when he got a proper look at Steve’s body, how it was strangely angular and defined, yet horribly gaunt. The muscles of his arms and legs stood out, his abs clear as day- but so were his ribs. His face had the taut signs of emaciation, his stomach concave like it had been hollowed.

“I’m okay Sam, I know that was probably… a lot. To see” he rubbed a hand over his face. “I can explain it in a minute, just… give me a minute”

“Wilson, can you get him stable for transport? We need to move out ASAP” the soldier said again, clearly less deferring than the one Bucky had come here with.

Before Sam could answer, Steve cut in. “It’s fine, it’s _fine_ , nothing’s gonna hurt us, she fixed…” Steve trailed off, then squinted like he had a headache. “What?” he asked with confusion, then craned his neck to look at the pool behind them.

Bucky inhaled sharply, seeing the other side of Steve’s head clearly for the first time. Coming out of his ear was a tangle of white vines, thick as hairs and hanging to just below the earlobe. He spotted little ropes of blue in it, and when he looked closer he could see they were- _jesus christ_ \- they were _worms_. Smaller, but the same.

“You-? At any time?” Steve said angrily. He looked like he was about to stand, but swayed dizzily and fell back. He inhaled sharply and grabbed at his chest, wincing.

“Steve?” Bucky asked with concern, reaching out to steady him.

Steve spared a glance to acknowledge he’d heard, but his attention was occupied elsewhere it seemed, brow furrowed. “What do you mean _n-no_ _ne_ _?_ ”

Bucky saw Clint sign to Natasha _am I reading this right?_ , probably having a hell of a time reading lips in this conversation. Natasha nodded and signed what had been said.

Steve shivered. “Fuck” he swore, then winced again, exhaling harshly and slouching. Bucky moved his hand to help hold Steve steady, and he felt his heart beat erratically though his palm.

“Steve?” Bucky asked again. The others were sharing looks, the lead soldier shifting impatiently but staying quiet.

Steve turned to him, his shivers growing worse. It was hard to tell in the low light, but Bucky swore he’d grown paler too.

“You gotta g-get me to a hospital” Steve said, his jaw shaking between words. He closed his eyes in concentration. “She couldn’t… m-make fat and- _jesus_ _c-_ _christ are you serious?_ \- and without this-” he indicated the deflated sac that sat under them with a shaky hand, “-I’m going into s-shock. I n-need sugars be-f-fore I go into a c-coma” Steve stuttered, leaning more into Bucky as he shook.

“Sam?” Bucky called to the only person here with any kind of useful medical experience.

“I got it” he said, already pulling his pack off. “He said sugar, right?” Sam asked, but he didn’t wait for confirmation.

Sam pulled out three tubes, uncapping the first one. “An injection would be better, but these’ll work for now. Steve, I’m giving you glucose gel” he said as he tipped Steve’s head up.

“Someone unfold the board from my pack” Sam instructed as he worked efficiently to pour the gel into Steve’s mouth, Bucky helping to hold Steve steady. By the last tube, Clint and Natasha had the board ready for him.

It took both Sam and Clint lifting to put him on the narrow stretcher, Bucky hovering as close as he could. By the time they had Steve strapped in and covered in a thermal blanket, the shaking had finally gone down to something subtle, but it was replaced with exhaustion.

Sam started asking questions that Steve could only mutter simple answers to. Beside the low blood sugar- and the _worms_ at his ear- he was having heart palpitations. There was nothing Sam could do about it, and really, there was no telling what other problems lay below the surface. Bucky ground his jaw before loosening it when Steve made a feeble grabbing motion for his hand.

Bucky reached out and took it, smiling dimly and trying not to let his worry show. “We’ll get you home” Bucky promised as Sam and Clint each took one end of the board and lifted. The lead soldier gave orders for his men to take position.

Steve smiled weakly and squeezed, causing tears to prickle Bucky’s eyes.

He still couldn’t believe it; _Steve came back_. He was here in the flesh, and Bucky didn’t want to jump the gun, but it looked like he was here in mind too- more than he’d been the past six months at any rate- and it was a treasure he’d hold as long as he could.

Unfortunately, Steve’s energy was fading fast. His smile slowly fell away as his eyes closed, his hand relaxing its grip. Bucky tucked it back into the blanket and let Sam and Clint readjust to better carry him. The both gave Bucky apologetic looks, but Bucky just shook his head. He wasn’t mad at them, he couldn’t be when his whole world had righted itself.

Natasha touched his arm briefly and gave him a sympathetic look, her own apology, before she turned to take the rear. They all knew this wasn’t the time to talk.

The soldiers shunted them in the middle with Mike and took position around them, keeping the most vulnerable at the center.

Steve opened his eyes a sliver and mumbled something, his head lolling to the side. Bucky leaned in to hear. “Say again” he gently asked, cupping his hand at Steve’s cheek.

Steve murmured again, and Bucky felt a bolt of cold go down his spine.

“What he say?” Sam asked from the foot of the board, where he could watch over Steve as they moved.

Bucky hesitated. “Nothing important” he settled on. Nothing they had to worry about right now.

“Let’s move out people” the commanding soldier ordered, and Bucky was glad to note that Mike didn’t make any fuss about his missed samples. The scientist was too busy keeping his eyes on the nearby pool instead, where the second body had retreated to.

Bucky turned to look too, and he saw the ripples as something lurked just below the surface. His gaze cut to the skulls on the wall, their patterning so similar to ones on Steve’s, then to Slasher, who watched on with a looming indifference.

The water rippled again, and he barely caught the gleam of a silvery eye before it quickly disappeared again. Mike inhaled sharply, and his gaze met Bucky’s briefly, confirming they’d both seen it.

Bucky had purposely been ignoring the second body, and he ignored it again now. He could only worry about so much, and Steve was taking up the focal point of his attention.

The soldiers called out to move, and Bucky turned away. He kept pace next to Steve as they were herded out, carefully following the same path that that led them here. There was a collective relief as Slasher disappeared from sight, making no move to follow their exit.

Steve had passed out properly by now, and the guys were careful not to jostle him as they moved. Bucky helped where he could, but he knew his presence was more inconvenient than helpful. Regardless, Sam let him stay by Steve’s side without complaint.

None of the bugs attacked or harassed them as they went, and as they stepped through the static threshold at the tunnel, Bucky finally had the capacity to worry about what Steve had said.

_I’ll come back._

Bucky was tired, and he was wrung out, and he was out of his mind, and Steve’s last words had left only one question running through his head.

_Who were you talking to?_

* * *

> Patient Name: Steven Grant Rogers  
> Patient ID: 420003819  
> Sex: M  
> Age: XX
> 
> Lead Critical Care Physician: Dr. Trevor McBride
> 
> Patient Status Summary
> 
> Patient initially presented with severe hypoglycemia and hypercalcaemia; intravenous glucose and calcitonin administered. Heart palpitations and weakness continued, as well as mental fatigue, confusion, and auditory hallucinations.
> 
> Body mass shown to be overweight from patient’s normal despite clear visual signs of malnutrition. Further testing found patient’s body fat percentage below 4% and muscle mass above 50%. Abnormal and excessive growths of muscle tissue was found surrounding organs and bones where fatty tissue was severely lacking.
> 
> Tests show severe deficiencies in fat-soluble vitamins A, D, E, and K; and low testosterone levels. Listed deficiencies concluded to be side-effects of fat deficiency.
> 
> Patient at serious risk of hemorrhage, hypertension, and cardiac failure.
> 
> Additional note:
> 
> Growth within ear canal found to extend beyond inner ear and into cranial cavity, scans show extension into brain. Neurologist consultation requested.
> 
> Treatment Plan Summary
> 
> Patient put on dietary plan consisting of essential fats, including omega-3 and omega-6 fatty acids, high calories, and high proteins. Patient will require glucose monitoring until fat stores replenish. Regular consultation with nutritionist scheduled.
> 
> Consultation with general surgeon and cardiovascular surgeon scheduled to address abnormal muscle growths; may require surgical removal.
> 
> …
> 
> Update: Patient transferred to private facility under care of primary physician Dr. Helen Cho. All scheduled consultations canceled.

  
(Isolated image of alien growth, left ear, patient S. G. Rogers)


	34. Chapter 34

_A controlled burn to clear out the Occupied Zone offers many benefits and risks, summarized below._

_Benefits_

  * _Guarantees complete destruction of all Seed-native plants_
  * _Ensures destruction of majority of Seed-native insects_
  * _Encourages healthy regrowth of Earth-native plants_
  * _Encourages local wildlife to return to area_
  * _Greatly reduces the chance of uncontrolled burn in future instances_



_Risks_

  * _Potential risk of fire spreading beyond Occupied Zone border_
  * _Smoke from fire may travel to populated areas and present health hazard to citizens_
  * _Post-burned ground at risk from erosion from precipitation_
  * _Burn run-off may pollute nearby bodies of water_
  * _Fire may cause Seed-native insects to flee beyond the Occupied Zone_



_We will now go into detail of each benefit and risk factor, and what we can do to encourage positive results while reducing negatives outcomes._

-Excerpt of Section 2, Project Ripley, page 4, now deemed obsolete

* * *

Bucky sat by Steve’s side in the tower’s med floor, keeping watch as Steve slept. It was a painfully familiar position.

Steve had been critical when they’d gotten him out, so much so that his heart would stop for seconds at a time, only to restart on its own.

Emergency treatment turned out to be fixing his deathly low blood sugar and flushing out the ridiculously high calcium levels in his system, all of which had brought him back to something closer to an unhealthy baseline. The rest of it had been a rush of tests that found nothing immediately wrong.

Sure, his body had no fat in it- not even in the marrow- and he had muscles sitting between his organs where they shouldn’t be, but it wasn’t anything that would kill him. The glucose drip kept him functional while his body worked to fill out.

Two days into recovery had seen him eat roughly fifty pounds worth of fish and nuts already. His body was metabolizing it fast, and Cho estimated he’d have enough fats to support himself in over a week. The extra muscles were still a mystery, but they didn’t pose any threat and could be dealt with later.

The growth at his ear was a different matter. Steve was adamant they not touch the roots, nor the worms living in them. They’d tried being stealthy about it and gone to remove the worms while he slept, but as soon as the tweezers touched the first slimy bug, Steve had woken with a shout. He’d nearly fallen out of bed fighting off the doctor.

It had taken half an hour of coaxing- that had turned into begging from Bucky- to get Steve to agree on one _small_ sample, and a serious reassurance that they’d leave the worms alone- because as Steve distressingly argued, they let him ‘ _talk to her_ ’.

Which was another concern; the overall effect of his condition had him weak and delirious, unable to hold conversation for long and often unable to make sense. The meals he so vitally needed took twice as long to eat as Bucky had to keep drawing Steve’s attention to the food when he zoned out.

Whenever he spoke, he’d be promising an explanation without ever giving one, or going from happy to see his friends to mumbling half-sentences to some unseen woman he called _Rose_.

“It’s a noble plant” was all Steve would say when Bucky tried asking him who this Rose woman was, and then he’d lost track of the topic and smiled sleepily, raising his hand to touch Bucky’s face. “Gettin’ scratchy” he observed, petting Bucky’s short facial hair.

Now Steve was either sleeping or passed out, and Bucky was again keeping watch. He was joined by Natasha, Clint and Sam, who were playing a game of go-fish on the small table between them. Bucky was technically part of the game, but he was far from paying attention.

He held the cards loosely in his metal hand, glad the thing had started working again after they’d left the Seed’s clearing. He was going over the last conversation he’d had with Steve- if it could be called a conversation at all.

_Steve mumbled something, and Bucky leaned closer to hear._

“ _-can’t stay ‘wake, doc says it’s the low sugar… no, s’not painful, just, tired a lot… I know, said that already…”_

“ _You okay Steve?” Bucky asked._

_Steve turned to Bucky, smiling tiredly. “Oh sure, just tryin’ not to sleep. Been sleepin’ too much”_

“ _Hey, your ugly mug needs all the sleep it can get right now” Bucky said lightly, hiding his worry with a grin._

“ _You’re one to talk. You oughta nap jus’ to get that thing you call a face away outta my sight” he muttered, eyes crinkling. Then he huffed, “S’a joke. Been ribbing each other since we ’ere kids”_

_He blinked heavily, looking at Bucky fondly. “Yeah, guess you could call ‘im that. What d’you say Buck, think you’re my harmonic laugh?”_

“ _I-?”_

_Steve waved dismissively, hand falling loosely back to the bed. “No, I know. Translation’s funny, think she meant soulmate or somethin’… Yeah, he probably- you were worried for me, weren’t you Buck” he murmured sadly and reached a hand out. Bucky took it in his own and brought it to his lips, kissing Steve’s knuckles._

“ _It’s alright, you’re here now”_

“ _No, no, you watched me die,” Bucky’s heart tore at the words, “God, you watched me_ die _. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry you had to see any of that and… what? My-?” Steve’s eyes widened, “God, my skull? Buck, did it give you my skull?” he asked, horrified._

Bucky had spent the next while calming Steve until he’d eventually wore himself down and passed out again.

Most of the conversations with Steve went like that, with a voice only he could hear talking to him too. What had Bucky more worried was Steve’s mention of the skull. How did he know about that?

It sounded like the voice had told him, which meant it had to be real- but then, who was this person talking to Steve who knew such details, and how-?

No, he knew how. Steve had said it himself. Bucky looked again at the tangle of roots and worms poking out of his ear and felt more disgust.

 _It let’s me talk to her_.

The image of silver eyes glaring from the pool came to mind. So did the image of Slasher.

All these unknowns, and that wasn’t even touching on how Steve was here in the first place, how Slasher had _eaten_ Steve, only for him to appear inside the Seed a month later. Why he’d emerged at the moment he did. _Was_ this even Steve?

It was too many questions, and any answer Bucky guessed at filled him with dismay. There were no good explanation that would appease him.

_Snap!_

Bucky blinked and turned to Natasha, who’d snapped her fingers right by his ear to get his attention.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you have any nines” she repeated casually, motioning to his hand.

“Right” he muttered, glancing at his cards and passing her the nine of clubs.

There was a knock at the open door, and the three of them turned to see Tony leaning in, lips drawn tight. He looked worse for wear, like he’d had another stint in his workshop. It seemed exhaustion had dulled whatever aversion he’d had of being around Steve.

“How’s it going in here?” he asked as came in, grabbing a plastic chair for himself and pulling up to the table.

“Eh, decent enough. Wanna play?” Clint asked, wiggling his cards.

“Sure” he said, and took the cards Natasha dealt to him.

If the others had been talking before, they’d gone quiet now. Tony had brought a tension with him, some bad news he was waiting to share that had Bucky keyed up but unwilling ask. They went another two rounds, nobody talking except to call for cards or ‘go fish’, before Tony came out with it.

“We got word from Maria,” he said, eyes cast down at his cards.

Bucky bristled but stayed quiet, waiting for the rest of it.

“Our Bunsen and Beaker friends got backing from the UN Security council _and_ our government. Everybody wants to know how he came back from the dead, even without public pressure. We had to hand over the DNA testing we did on his… on the skull, to prove he was dead in the first place. They want full access to his medical records since the first incident, and medical proof that our good captain is actually the good captain” Tony said, nodding to Steve’s sleeping form.

Bucky grit his teeth. “They think he’s an imposter?”

“They don’t know what the hell to think”

Bucky grunted, putting his cards down on the table. “What else?”

Tony was looking at him now, just as unhappy with the news. “They want talk to him. It’s not like before, they can’t ignore his little Jesus act-”

“ _Don’t”_ Bucky hissed, quickly checking Steve was still sleeping. He turned back to Tony, whispering low, “Do _not_ make this religious, don’t even compare it. You all knew the shit he was talking about before”

 _God is dead. Demon seed._ They didn’t need to encourage more of that.

Tony nodded tightly, glancing at Steve before going on a little more quietly. “Point is, they’re sending people in to talk to him. The best we can swing is keeping Helen as his primary physician and send them his medical files instead of handing him over to their own doctors. It buys us some time and saves the extra tests, but that only goes so far”

“How much more time are they going to give him?” Natasha asked.

“Three days”

“Three-!? He’s only been here for two!” Bucky hissed, careful to keep his voice down. “He can barely stay awake, and when he _is_ awake he sounds _crazy_. What the fuck do they think they’ll get out of him like that?”

“That’s what we told them, but they don’t care” Tony muttered bitterly. “We’re lucky we got him to the tower at all, if he hadn’t been almost dead they would’ve kept him at their lab from the start. It’s why we moved him from the hospital as soon as we could”

Clint cursed quietly, throwing down his cards in disgust.

“Nothing else we can do?” Natasha asked, similarly letting her cards drop.

Tony shook his head. “I bought us all the time I could, but this comes from up high. All the major governments are looking at Steve now, he’s… coming back from the dead turned a lot of heads”

Natasha hummed, considering. “A lot of people would be interested in knowing how that happened. It’s a good excuse to look at the serum too, we need to be careful on that”

“Oh, don’t worry, Helen’s ahead of you. She’ll be handling any sample-taking and analysis, and she’s using HIPAA loopholes to keep anything about his serum private”

Bucky breathed through his nose, processing what Tony was saying. So people were coming to talk to Steve, that could be alright so long as Bucky stayed in the room. They’d all have to be checked for weapons, obviously, and Jarvis would have to scan them all to prevent another LMD attack.

Steve might get stressed from it, but then Bucky would kick them all out.

The medical tests were more of an issue, but Dr. Cho would see to all of it, and he trusted her to be respectful about it.

Now, whether Steve accepted it or not would be the question, but Bucky would back him if he chose not to go through with it. And if things got real bad, well- he knew how to steal a quinjet, and disappearing from there was child’s play.

“What are you thinking?” Natasha asked, clueing into his thoughtful expression. No doubt she was already thinking of security measures too.

“I’m thinking we need to vet whoever’s coming, get a transcript of their questions and show them to Steve beforehand. No surprises” Bucky started.

Sam nodded. “We can teleconference them in, keep them a few floors down”

“They’re all going to want to see him in the flesh for this, and they’ll fight for it too” Natasha countered, “but we can do a thorough vet. Full body search and keep them five feet back. James and I can sit with him, you three at the door as backup”

They’d need to work out more details and contingencies, but it was a start. He couldn’t do much against alien bugs, but _people_ he could handle just fine. People had known weaknesses and vulnerabilities. People were _predictable_.

He looked back at Steve’s sleeping form, his tired but peaceful expression, and swore to do everything in his power to keep the man he loved safe.

* * *

Three more days of rest did surprising wonders for Steve. His body filled in a little more and he was able to stay awake longer. He regained his coherency too, and though it tired him out, he could hold an actual string of conversation on his own.

He’d also stopped talking to the mysterious person… as much. He was aware that the others couldn’t hear her, but he didn’t stop outright. He treated it more as a phone conversation now, and he stopped switching between her and the people in the room at random.

They’d asked him about her again, while they were explaining the official inquiry that would be happening tomorrow morning. Steve had sighed, looking down at the sheet of pre-written questions that would be asked of him, considering.

“Is it… Can I answer that tomorrow, as part of the interview? It’s complicated, and I’ll just be repeating myself”

As much as Bucky wanted answers, he wanted Steve more- he’d live in complete ignorance for Steve’s comfort, and he sure as hell could wait a day. The others thought similarly- or, they did about waiting another day. Bucky knew his devotion was extreme and bordering on dependency.

Bucky became increasing nervous as the night wore on, however. It wasn’t just his worry for Steve’s safety that had him pacing- the looming explanation Steve was holding back had him antsy too. What would he say? What did he remember? Was he even himself?

It was near midnight when Steve roused and coaxed him into the bed to curl up at his side, wrapping his arms around Bucky and shushing him. Bucky grabbed him tightly, shaking from sheer relief of having Steve _here_. If this _was_ Steve.

The thought kept nagging him.

There was a sadness in Steve’s eyes as he watched Bucky shake, an apology at the tip of his tongue that Bucky refused to allow. He’d put his foot down and told Steve to stop apologizing for what had happened.

Steve eventually got him closer to calm, but lying there in his arms had opened the vulnerability he’d been steadfastly ignoring, and Bucky couldn’t stop the question from slipping out.

“You’re real, right?” he asked Steve in the quiet of their room.

Steve’s hand froze where it had been petting Bucky’s hair, and he panicked, quickly adding, “It’s okay if you’re not, but you’re close enough that I… I can’t tell”

The silence stretched for another minute, each second filling Bucky with regret for asking at all. Stupid, _stupid_. What did it matter? This Steve was near exact, real or not, yet the concern remained like an open sore at the back of his mind.

Just when Bucky thought he wouldn’t answer, Steve spoke, his tone hushed.

“I don’t really know. She says- I don’t understand it- but she says it’s like… Imagine a book” he said suddenly, “And all the pages get taken out one-by-one, and then all the letters are taken out of those pages. And some of those letters get lost.

“Then you put all those letters on new pages in the exact same order, except now there’s spaces from those missing letters. You guess which letter fits best, and you get some right, and you get some wrong, and you miss a few spaces along the way. Then you take all those pages and you bind them into a new cover.

“Is it the same book after? Is it-” Steve swallowed, “Is it close enough?”

Bucky ran a hand down Steve’s side. He could guess at what some of that metaphor meant- the letters, the new pages and binding. A book, taken apart and put back together.

He thought for a minute. That… wasn’t so bad. This was something Bucky could understand. And shit, he had a metaphor of his own, didn’t he?

“Remember those old pulp books I used to read?” Bucky asked. It took a moment for Steve to hum an acknowledgment. “Worn to shit, covers fell off before I’d even been born; had to scribble their titles on the front in pencil. Sometimes I’d forget to wash my hands proper after work, so the engine grease on my finger would smudge a whole word. I think I erased an entire sentence once”

Silence from Steve, though he heard his breath shudder. “I can’t remember a single one of those stories, but I remember I’d reread them a hundred times. And sometimes a few words would be missing ‘cause of the grease, and I’d forget what the word had been at all, but the story was still there. I didn’t lose the plot ‘cause some words were missing. It was still the same book- it was still _my_ book”

Steve had gone back to petting Bucky’s hair silently, and he turned his head up to see his reaction. Steve had his head tilted back to stare at the ceiling, tears streaming from the corner of his eyes.

“Stevie?”

“I don’t know”

Another moment of silence. “You know I got holes in my memory like Swiss cheese. I ain’t the whole book I used to be either” Bucky spoke low.

“But it’s not just my memories. It’s my judgment, my- my _emotions_. My instinct. My imagination. All that shit that my mind’s made of”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t even know, I… okay, she’s got one for me,” Bucky suppressed a shiver. He didn’t like that _she_ was listening.

“I might not be able to imagine sounds”

Bucky took a second to try to parse that. “What?”

“Imagine the sound of thunder”

He imagined the rumble of it, a vague echo in his head pulled from countless experiences in storms. “Alright” he said.

“So then I wouldn’t be able to do that”

_Huh._

“Is that one of the missing letters?” Bucky asked lightly.

“No, I imagined the sound of thunder too. But it’s an example of what I could’ve lost… Christ, I don’t even know what I’m missing. I could hate dogs now. I could’ve lost the ability to feel guilt”

None of that stopped Steve from being _Steve_ though.

“Things like that, I don’t see how that wouldn’t make you yourself. You couldn’t see colour before either, you were still Steve then”

“It ain’t the same” Steve said sullenly.

Silence again as they both thought about what this meant, but honestly… Bucky didn’t see it as an issue. He’d been worried Steve was a puppet, or maybe an imposter acting the part, but this… _this_ was nothing.

Steve was more himself now than Bucky had been after Hydra, and Steve had accepted him as he’d been then; it was a trivial thing for Bucky to do the same now.

“Fuck, if I’m still Bucky without half my memories then you’re still Steve” Bucky settled on.

“It’s not the same-”

“Without my memories, am I or am I not still your fella?” Bucky interrupted. The trick was to use Steve’s own logic against him, and the thought that it would work now had a warm feeling growing in Bucky’s chest. It would work because this was _Steve_.

“Buck, it’s not-”

“Answers the goddamn question”

“… You _know_ you are”

“And ways I see it, you’re mine too, missing letters and all. Shit, you can be Stev”

That got a weak snort from Steve. “You ain’t callin’ me _Stev_ ”

“Why not? Buck and Stev, a pair of poorly spelled men”

“Oh, well that just sounds sad” Steve said, but there was a quiet mirth in his voice.

“I think it works”

“ _Mm_ ” Steve hummed. Bucky wasn’t naive enough to think Steve was suddenly convinced, but he’d let Bucky have this one. That was fine, Bucky could keep working at it. He was in this for the long haul.

They sat like than a while longer, the tears dried from Steve’s face and the air around them lighter.

“I think I’m gonna sleep” Steve murmured, eyes drooping heavily, and Bucky squeezed him once in answer.

Bucky couldn’t stop the small smile playing on his lips. There was still so much wrong, but it didn’t hold a leg to this.

He had Steve with him again, and for the first time in a long while, his world finally felt right.

  
("Are you in pain?")  
(;̡̗̟̫̣͕͈͍̗͊̏̈́̐̚;̨̧̺̳̤͙͈̯͆̋͋̒͑̓̕̚͜͠~̵̧̠̞͖̫͔͊͆̽̾͘͘͘,̡̦̼̣̖̬͆̊̎̐͘͢͠ͅ\̢̤̤̠͎̦̭͎̓̀̋̊̊͞͠ *̧̤̠̝̪͓͋̆̉͊͐̅͌̑͂͜͜*̵̡̛͖͓͍̦͈͕̮̋̎̾͛͗̉̍͢͢͝ -̡̥̘̱̩͚̱̙̾͛̌́̃͆͢ͅ-̴̨͍̼̘̥̣̲̊͗͌̈͛̓̍͞-̶̤̬͕̗͍̇͐̂̄͊̕͘̚,̵̛̥̗̰̙͖̝͉͖̤̅̒͐͒̂̓̑͘͝;͚̹̭̟̜͖͌̈̀͋͊͞'̸̧̥̫̪̹̥̜̻̯̽̽̓̒͘.̷̯͚̳̳̌̒̇̀̄̂͛̑͢,̢͔̻͕̜̱͔̄͐̍̄̄͆̆,̵̡̠̮̭͆̊͗̏̅̍̅̚͟)  
  
("No, s'not painful, just, tired a lot")  
  
("I apologize for the [blind-thought]. My focus was [priority-focus] completing your [removed-insulation] nervous system")  
(-̶̰̦̫̙̫͛̓͐̿͋'̢̡͈͕̞̤̗͖̉͗̅͆̏'̷̥̜͈̮̗̲͎̉̎̀̄͋̂̔̍͠<̖̪̺͓̗̥̊͑͑͘͢͠͞`̨̰͕̤̝̫̋͐͑͂͋͂̉̂͝ :͈̘̜͇̹̞̎̋̋͘̕͜͜͡_̶̣̹͔̜͓͙̄̍̋͌̓͌ J̷̫̰̻͉͇̾̎̓͑̾͞ͅ^̷̧͔̫̞͇̤̳̱͉͖̓̑̓͞͞'̴̹̭̙̮̹͖͆́̾̄͘͟ͅ'̧̡͎̗͖̺̼̈́̌̃̽̀͐̾̒͘͡.̵͇̣͚͇̰͒̄̑͊̕͜-̡̙̪̜̳̠͕͋͗̿̌̚͢ *̷̨̧̠͎̗̾̆͗̒͂̈́͘͝,̵̢̢̩̟͍̖̲͆̔͆̓͝,̶̡̰̲̘̙͛̈̂͗̾̊̂̓͞͝,͇̤͓̫̼̟̣͙͓̥̿̓͆̃̚͞͝͠;̶̼̦̥͉̳̣͚̫̩͂̓͛͛̉̑̿̔̕̕ ~̸̢̦̪̼͚͚̔̑̈́̃̈́͗̇͜͠͠_̵͙̫͚̲͉̘͇̂̒̈̕͟͞͡ͅ_͓̻͎̮͍̬̄̽͒̈́̈́̇̽̄͛͘,̴̨͎̹̟̮̩̰̈́̎͆̍͋̏͜.̹͚͉͔̭͊̓́̓̾͛̾.̨̹͉̝̠̝̮̾͆̇̃̋͘͢ͅ'̶͕͓̝̫̤̱̝̦̍̔̓̿͒̄)  
  
("I know, said that already")  
  
("Your body can produce more fat independently, it was not a concern I considered")  
("̧̙̻̟̈̿͑̃̄͑̄̆͜͡"̷̙̗͉̘̜̾̀͑̾͌͝ͅ^̸͕͖͕̙̆̽̀̈̃̈́̏͛͗͘͢`̶̛̺̥̻̣̲̜͖̓̓̉͋͋̚̚`̸̳͕͔̭͔̦͐̅̍͛͆̓͟͢͝,̛̝̤̭͍͔̺͚͗̉̈͝ͅ"̷̨̛̞͙̙͛̎͛͛ͅͅ ,̛̜̣͕͙͈̋͋͋̌̚,̼̗̺̲̱̽͊̏̒̓͛̽̽.̨̮̤̱̞̗̖̈́̒̊̀͆̍̌̄͘^̨̝̲̤̻̍̂̈́́͜͡ͅ^̴̨̳̤͖̯̹͇̤̼̭͆̓͊̀͘v̵̥̝͕̝͙̾̔͒̓̓͗̾͘_̸̢̡̡͍̺̩͇̠͓͔̋̏͌̐̈́)  
  
```(You okay Steve?)```  
("Oh sure, just tryin’ not to sleep. Been sleepin’ too much”)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who couldn't read the itty-bitty text right at the end there, it says: (You okay Steve?)


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for some answers? :)c

_Species 025  
_ _Official name:_ _Novis por_ _to_ _digitabul_ _ae  
_ _Laymen name: Crawdad_

_The crawdad is similar to that of Earth’s Astacoidea superfamily (also known as crayfish, or the namesake crawdad). Unlike their aquatic counterparts, they possess a lung-like sac within their carapace which allows for air-breathing. Their colouration consists of a striking red with purple striping._

_The body is made up of twenty body segments grouped into two main body parts, the cephalothorax and the abdomen. Each segment possesses three pairs of appendages, an excess amount which heavily impedes movement. The front walking legs, rather than ending in sharpened claws, end in a soft ‘mitten’ claws which serve as gentle grips. Crawdads grow up to 17.5 centimetres in length._

_Crawdads can be observed carrying all manner of objects, such as rocks, leaves, twigs, smaller organisms, and general detritus. This behaviour does not seem to serve any function, as crawdads will carry these objects as long as possible wherever they go._

_We have deemed the crawdad to pose minimal threat to both the environment and life on Earth._

-Excerpt from page 67 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

“James, sit down” Natasha ordered as Bucky paced the room for the hundredth time.

“I can’t” he ground out, eyeing the closed door menacingly. There was a group of people out there getting thoroughly searched for weapons by Clint and Sam, along with a full scan by Jarvis. It wasn’t enough though, and Bucky was torn between wanting to go out to do it himself and staying by Steve’s side.

“Buck, it’s fine. They’ve got this” Steve assured, lying propped up in the bed.

“You don’t know that”

“You’ll be right here if anything happens”

“ _When_ something happens”

“ _If_ ” Steve countered.

“ _James_ ” Natasha said again, giving him a pointed look. She was sitting on Steve’s opposite side, fully outfitted with her bites innocuously dark at her wrists. Bucky had gotten geared up as well, and if he managed to actually sit down, the two of them would make an imposing guard for the man in the bed between them.

Bucky knew he shouldn’t be arguing with Steve, it would only tire him faster- but then again, it meant the people outside would have to leave sooner…

“The committee will be arriving within sixty seconds” Jarvis warned, and Bucky sucked on his teeth, forcing himself to sit where he was supposed to.

The door opened a moment later, Tony entering first, followed by the interviewers.

“Take your seats ladies and gentlemen,” Tony instructed, motioning to the table and chairs set up in the middle of the room, a good eight feet away from the end of Steve’s bed, “be sure to buckle in, and keeps your arms and legs inside the ride at all times”

It had been a fight to cut down the number of people from twenty to these four, and Bucky catalogued them as they entered, familiar with each after reading their files yesterday.

First there was Mike, because of course he was here. At this point he’d become a fixture in this whole mess. He was what passed for an expert in the field of Occupied Zone ‘biological occurrences’.

Then there was the representatives: General Shaw from the US military and Ambassador Kozak from the world security council. At least nine countries had wanted their own personal representatives here, and they were lucky to have whittled that number down to these two.

Lastly there was Agent Hayes, who was supposed to be the neutral party leading the interview. She was on loan from Shield, and Maria had personally vouched for her.

Sam and Clint were right behind the procession of people, but they stayed back and guarded the open door.

The members of the inquiry team took their seats, a microphone set in front of each, with a smaller one clipped to the collar of Steve’s gown to pick up his voice. Jarvis would be encrypting the recording to ensure no leaks on their end.

Bucky eyed them all cautiously, mentally going over the questions they would ask. It was all generic prompts for Steve to describe what had happened, and there was leeway given to ask followup questions depending on what information Steve gave. At any point Steve could call a break, no arguments. If he became too tired to continue, the interview would end immediately, to be picked up another time.

Hayes cleared her voice. “We’ve begun recording; we can start whenever you’re ready”

Steve tapped his finger on the blanket that lay across his lap, looking at the assembled committee in front of him. He turned to Bucky, who nodded to give his silent support. He’d be right here at Steve’s side the whole way.

“I’m ready, but…” Steve paused, everyone in the room hanging on his words. “I know you have your questions, but it’s better if I start from the beginning”

“Yes, our first questions pertain to the initial incident-”

“No, this is before that. It’s about Eden-” Steve stopped short, his mouth turning down distastefully. “Not- what do we call it? The meteor?”

“The Seed?” Mike offered.

Steve nodded. “Yes, thank you. I have information about the Seed that’ll give better context for what happened”

“Alright, please continue” Hayes said.

* * *

[Transcript 00:03:15]

SR: There’s a planet out there with a lot of electricity.. on the planet. Or it’s in the air at least. It’s like the area around the Seed, you must’ve noticed how things stop working when you get close.

MS: Yes, there’s a non-ionizing electrostatic field. It disrupts electronics.

SR: Right. And imagine an entire planet like that.

MS: You’re saying these organisms come from an environment of extreme electromagnetic frequencies?

SR: Yes, I-

JS: Where exactly are you getting this information from?

MH: General Shaw, please do not interrupt while Captain Rogers is explaining. Please continue.

SR: There’s a.. race, a people who developed on this planet, and they created technology that could work in that environment. They advanced enough for space travel, and the Seed is part of that.

[pause]

SR: Their technology is based around the organic; the bugs and plants you saw at the gard- the Occupied Zone, those were all machines- er, no, that’s not right. Computers? [pause] A little of both.

[pause]

MS: Are you talking about biotechnology?

SR: I think? They use the, the… they learned how grow almost anything, and how to make them behave in any way they want. And their genetics have something to do with information? I don’t really understand it.

MS: The genetic transferring? I’ve had theories it’s a form of data transfer, but this… You say they’re a form of biotechnology- an organic hardware- but how is it controlled? Foreign genetic markers are stored and transferred through the gastric systems, how is anything accessed externally? Is it-

MH: Doctor Sabos, please allow Captain Rogers to explain.

SR: Look, all I know is they use bugs and plants like we use, I dunno, cars and computers. All those things out there are, artificial? Not artificial, but, selectively bred? No, they’re… clones might be a better word for them. I’m sorry, I can’t get a clear explanation of it.

MS: [whispered] It makes so much sense. [aloud] And these biomachines are being used for what? Is it a terraforming project? Or are they setting up a communication hub-

SR: No, none of this had any kind of… there’s, there’s no reason behind any of it. The Seed is.. it’s part of the… Jesus, sorry, give me second.

[extended pause]

It’s an escape ship.

The main ship was sabotaged and the pilot had to abandon, but she didn’t realize how extensive the sabotage went. The escape ship was compromised and she lost control of it.

The Occupied Zone is… a crash site. It’s just a crash site. The bugs and the plants, it’s all debris, or, or a fuel leak if that’s easier to understand.

[pause]

MS: So this whole- the Seed, and all the organisms that come from it. It’s all part of an alien spacecraft? Which has crashed here purely by chance?

SR: Yes.

TK: And this alien pilot did not survive the crash?

SR: Not… technically no. She died before… before the Seed got to our solar system. The autopilot was compromised, but the systems are… they’re instinctively attracted to livable planets. Earth was the one they happened to choose.

[pause]

When I came out of the, the thing you found me in, there was another there with me.

JB: [Indistinct]

MS: Yes, we saw there was a paired vesicle next to yours. You both emerged at the same time, but we weren’t able to see the second organisms clearly before it fled. This was another machine?

SR: You didn’t-? Sorry, I thought you met her, but a lot of it’s a blur, I don’t know why she.. [pause] What? [laugh] Are you-? [laugh]

MH: Captain Rogers?

SR: [laughing] She didn’t, she didn’t want you to see her naked. Jesus.

MS: Pardon?

SR: It’s not.. it doesn’t matter. That was the pilot you saw, she was resurrected like I was. You can meet her later.

MS: What?

SR: Sorry, I’m getting ahead. The point is the pilot died, and her ship was floating through space until it crashed here, and she’s only just been able to start fixing everything.

JS: So this wasn’t an attack, or otherwise hostile action?

SR: No. This was an unintentional crash. Everything that’s happened is because of faulty machinery.

JB: [indistinct] tore you apart [indistinct] loose fucking gear?

SR: I know it’s the worst fucking luck, but it’s honest to god the truth, Buck. These things don’t break down like our tech, they don’t just stop. The sabotage-

JB: [indistinct]

SR: I know, but can we.. not now? There’s more I have to tell.

JB: [indistinct]

MH: Continue when you’re ready.

SR: Right, I.. what was I on? No, right, the pilot.

It… I’m not gonna to get into it, but when my body was destroyed, my mind was preserved in a, a sort of computer storage. When the pilot died, she was preserved the same way. The two of us were.. stored together. It’s hard to explain, but we could communicate in there, and she explained some of this to me.

MS: They have methods of cerebral preservation? And it’s all organic-based?

SR: It has something to do with electricity… neurons maybe? Like I said, they figured out how to manipulate genes to create… anything I guess. It’s how I’m here, she regrew my body from my DNA. She recreated the serum from it.

JS: The serum?

SR: She tried to remake my body exactly as it was before. She… she wanted to make as few alterations as possible.

JS: So this alien now has access to the supersoldier serum, and can replicate it.

SR: Yes but- General, I know what your concerns are, but I guarantee she won’t be using it. She’s very unimpressed by it. Say’s it’s inferior, or… ah. [laugh] Okay, she’s just calling it garbage.

JS: These aliens have something that’s better than the serum?

[pause]

SR: Sir, they have things like Slasher, and that one isn’t even a weapon. Which- we’re actually lucky their armory survived the sabotage, there’s some nasty things in there.

JS: [whispered] Jesus H. Christ.

TK: [whispered] Do prdele. [Translation note: “Fuck.”]

[pause]

MS: What… what is Slasher, exactly? You’ve implied it’s one of the alien’s machines, but we’ve seen it show intelligence far above any of the others.

SR: Yeah, it’s meant to be a lot of things, but she calls it the ship’s technician- or, that’s what it’s translated into. It, it’s a bit like Jarvis I think. Tony, Jarvis is, what’s it called, a computer intelligence?

AS: [indistinct]

MS: It’s an AI?

SR: Their equivalent I think. She calls it a false sentience, so take that translation how you will. It does a little of everything. It mostly runs the ship and controls where the data flows. It, uh, it processes data too. It’s like the, the heart of the system.

MS: [whispered] A central processing unit.

TK: Captain, if this creature is as you say, why has it behaved so violently? You say these creatures are… that they are machines, but to what purpose do they have? Many insects were extremely aggressive and dangerous, I have difficulty believing these had any purpose others than weaponry, if they are machines at all.

And why has this pilot only made an appearance now? Why has she not made any attempts at contact? She has allowed her so called technology to run rampant for months.

MH: Please, only one question at a time Ambassador.

SR: It’s fine, those all have the same answer, and I was about to get to it anyway. I just needed to get you caught up with the context of these things first. You have to understand that what you see as um, as animal behaviour and instinct is really a computer program. The whole thing is based around genetics and a… a binary?…

I don’t know what that means. [pause] That’s not any- you realize none of this is coming across, right?

MH: Captain Rogers?

SR: Sorry, I really don’t understand any of this. I’m trying to relay as she says it, but a lot of things are being translated literally, I’m getting a lot of… It’s a lot of science jargon I think, which… it’s like when Tony explains something but worse.

MS: Relay? Are you… are you communicating with them?

SR: Oh, right, I should… It’s. Okay, you see this? [Note: Captain Rogers indicates alien growth at left ear]

I mentioned all these things are part of their technology, right?

TK: The thing at your ear is another piece of technology?

SR: It’s a communication device. The ah, the roots do most of the communication parts, the worms amplify the signal.

MS: So this living organism is part of a technology graft? Like, like a prosthetic, or a cybernetic implant?

SR: Yes.

MS: Amazing! Is it-

JB: Sit the fuck back [indistinct].

MH: Doctor Sabos, please remain in your seat.

MS: Sorry, I- [clears throat]. Is it similar to the growth you had previously in your arm? Was that also a communication device?

SR: No, that was… Even Rose- even the pilot was disturbed by that. This is like Clint’s hearing aids, the other one was… no offense Tony, but it was like having a car battery sticking out of your chest. She called it an abomination of technology.

MS: So the previous growth was more malfunctioning technology? It was still following a biological imperative, wasn’t it? That’s what all of the behaviours we saw were, the technology wasn’t directed, but the artificial instinct kept driving them to perform pseudo-functions.

SR: It’s… Mostly. Some of them were still trying to work, but a lot weren’t doing what their original job was. It’s another part of the bigger issue. This is why I needed, needed to give you context first, so you can understand what caused the malfunction in the first place.

MH: And what is that?

SR: I called it demon seed.

* * *

> ⬆ Posted by u/warzine2286 1 day ago  
> 674 **Captain America Never Died  
> ** ⬇   
> I know this has been said a lot here, but now especially we’re seeing more proof. First the grainy footage at the zone they used to scapegoat Cpt America’s ‘injury’, then the leak of him doing fuck all while ‘recovering’, obviously a cover to hide his absence for at best a deep shadow ops. The faked death was rushed as hell, they didn’t even have time to set up the footage `Read more`
> 
> 💬 230 Comments ➦ Share 🔖 Save ⁞
> 
> ⬆ Posted by u/dmadkensi87 4 days ago  
> 480 **Media pictures of Captain America out of the zone. I highlighted inconsistencies, you can see the photo manipulations  
> ** ⬇
> 
> 💬 97 Comments ➦ Share 🔖 Save ⁞
> 
> ⬆ Posted by u/deepindope21 15 hours ago  
> 1.2k **Captain America has been replaced with a decoy  
> ** ⬇   
> Captain America is a symbol to keep the simple-minded people calm. The Avengers know the score, his death would have led to mass hysteria, so they soft-balled it and faked his recovery. Months out of the public eye meant people got used to it, so the Avengers announced his death when they thought people were ready. Wrong, people are chaotic, flighty, and they panic at the smallest change. He’s dead for a day and crime rates skyrocket. What are the Avengers to do? Easy, make Captain America alive again! But how? Simple; they play on people’s gullibility by `Read more`
> 
> 💬 902 Comments ➦ Share 🔖 Save ⁞
> 
> ⬆ Posted by u/rrrutter 7 hours ago  
> 287 **This was deleted in r/Todayilearned: the US government is** **using captured zone bugs to test pharmaceuticals  
> ** ⬇
> 
> 💬 39 Comments ➦ Share 🔖 Save ⁞

Selection of posts from Subreddit r/zoneconspiracy

  
("I don’t know what that means")

("The [core-function] is created with [rotation-rotation] [genetic-insulation-removal] [rotation-process] where the [signal-bridge] is [data-insertion] [unique-retrieval] [two-concentration]")  
(;͚͕̝̰͚̱͖̗̉̓̍̽͘̚J̵̞̞̰͓̯̝̺̖̌̑̅͌̄̾͂̀͢͝:̴̡̪̹͇̃̊͛̾͒̚̚͟͜͡͞ͅ"̴̡̨͖̰̣̠͓̟̓̿̓̽̂̓́̋ͅ:̺̦̩̤̖͙͈̳̾̿̂̊͌̅̆͠͠͞L̸̡͙̰͕̠̺̓̅̓̈̓͛͊͒͜͝J̶̟̫͔̦̼͈͂̽̽́̒̋̕̕͟͜͞͡_̧̡̠̘̬̰͙̝̊̏̆͊̇̂̾͠`̝̻͚̘̳̿̾̄͐̾͊̑̓.̴̢̘̯̰̱̽̊͂͗̏̓\͔͍̟̩͖͓̝̓͊̒́͢͠ :̶̡̨̪͔̳͛͗̊̃̒͌̚͡͞ͅ*̵̡͈͓͈͍̺̣̺̰͖̽̍̀̊͡/̸̳̻̪͚̩̈́͋̂̀̃̋'̡̨̢̼̣͓̘̭̲̆͊̂̾͗͋̀̚̚͠\̸̢̮͍̖͔̫̭̤̣͔͑͆̆̆͗̾͝ `̴̧̲̬̬́͗̉͗͋̆̄̕ͅ/̛͍̗̩̱̼͛̇̉̋͒̿̔̃͒L̤̖̗̳̞̐̊̊̂̊̌̎̿~̶͓̩̟̱̹̰̦̄̆̏͐͛͌͑̅͝ -̸̯̥͔͉̤̳̻͕̐̋́͆͋̋͒̔̎͘:̡̧͈̬̦̅̈̈́͊̃͘͜;͙̭̖̦̳̆̉̒̀͆͋̋̔̿̔͟,̛̛̱͓̬͈̙̻͔̈͊͘-̴̧̛͕͍̫̟̹̤̋̔͑̈́͋̾̈́͝͞J̷̢̧͕̺͓̟̺̇̅͜͢͡\̺̹͖̥̮̣́̓̓̌̈́͑͊̇̉͜"̨̪̘̯̬͓̠̣̒̑̂͒͒̎:̷̳̹͈̥̽͐̆̃͟͠v̲̩̪̝̲̯̚̕͟͡͞͝,̶̢͓͉͈͈̹̏̈̃̌̎̉̑;̸̜͍̱͙͉̽̄̒̋̀͜͢͝͝'̹̲͖͇̮͊͛̋̉͆͒̅͜͞͡J̴̗̦͉̺̘͕͐͑̏̋̐́͆̌̃͠~͕̹͙̯̖̻̗̬̈́͛̿̀̋̇̂ͅ\͇̖̖͖̟̰͉̥̥͊̎̅̿͑̈́̅̄͡͝J̢̳̠̤̝̼̇̀͗̋̇̒̍͘͞͡ͅ"̢͇̺̼͚̜͖̹̦̣͑̄̂̒̌̿̅_̸̮̗͇͖̉̓̓̕͜͝;̛͕̩̲͉̟̘̤̥͖̊̃̆͂̃̇̕ͅ:̨̡̝̫̥͔̟͍̻̐̎̋̀͛̓̎͌͘͝'̴̧̛̥̯̲̣̩̠̅̓̎͗̏̍̽̃͜͢͠^̫̮̺̖̝͂̎͋̕/̧̨̛̗͚̻͇̤̗̻̉͒̓̂͝:̴͉̣͖̠̞̣̥͇͗͌̓̔̏̅̐/̧̳͚͎̻̞̭̭̾̈̃̂͂͌ͅ*̸̦̦̩͖̱̥̠͚͍͆̍̃͌͑͌L̴̢̨̦͓̥͓̻̗̽͊̊̋͗͐͟͢~̧̧̩͈͙̫̘̙̼̏͆͑̆͐́͋̎͒:̞̪̯̯̱̇̈͋̍̐́̈̋;̰̜͓͇̻̆̃̈̍̊͜͠_͎̭̙͉̟̎̊̔͑͗͊/̢̡̗̥̝̖̋̋̊̔͌̾̈́\̸̯̺̠̦̻͙͕̬̦̞̽̍̽̓̅̎̊̕̚~̵̢̬̻̣̫̤͑̀̈͛͋͘͡"͉̮̳͕̜̪͇̼͉̂̆̃̔̽͘͟͡-̡̛͕͕̺͕͖̳̱̌̉̐͆͗̉͐͠"̬̤͕̜͚̗̇͑̈́͒͐,̧̖͔͈͙̹̳̤̿͋̽̔͋̊͛̍ͅ;̶̨̨͉̗̤̪̫͍̜̆̓̊̏͘͟"̬͉̠̞̲̔͆̀̉͘͟͞ͅ v̶̛̗̭̫̺̺̙̦̩̖̆͋̋̍̽̏͛͡;̷̫͚̤͍̺̗͇̈̎̀̿͂̓̐̈̌͢͡_̧͇̞̘͍̠̝̱͓̇̂̔̀͋̆\̢̗̦̯͓̬̻̘͙̐͒͒̽̚͟͡J̴̢̼̪̲͋̔͊̔͛͂͟ͅ `̧̨̛̳̥̻̙̜̗̟̐̇̌͘ *̧̧͉̫͙͈̞̞͑̐̀́͋͘̚͠͠J̨̡̘̳̗̱̣͇͒͛̏͒̈́̋͟͡/̴͓̱͔̮̪̯̬̑̄̉̃͑̋͘̚_̡̥̮̭̹͚̓̄͊̃̑̊͋͢.̴̻͎̥̙̭̱͂̍̃͒̾̆;̡͓̳͎̰̪̱̬̫͆͛̃̓̐̌̉̓,̢̛͕̬̥͈̪̟͛̐̆́̎̓͗͜-̴̡̧̻̫͇͓̜̼͊̔̑̃̍̿̔̈̚̕͢ ^̶͈̭̤̩̲͂̏͊͌̓̾̅̊͠ͅ;̷̡͖̫̩͖͚͚̊̍͌̎̈́͞.̨̣̪̖̪̅͌̏̍̕͜ṽ̷̨̡̩̳̠͈̹̼͂͌̾̑͢͝,̴͈͉͚̹̪̙̈́̾̓̔̈́̀̕͢͝͡`̛̫̣̟̤̪̲̊̑͒͗͒͒́'̭̯͕͉̲̎͛͛͢͟͡͡ͅJ̢̛̜̬̇͌̈͜͞ͅ'̴̧̨̖̪̤͔̤̯̟̥͛͛̎̄̊̈͘͞"̢̦̪̭̳͖̞̜̠̏̀́̏͗̓̓̽͝͠-̷̡̦͎̙͕̣͈̳̑͛̑̋̒̀L̢̡̲̼̯͔̣̉͌̏̊͋̎́̏͂̕͢~̨̳̱̜͎̜͒̋͋̐͡͞'̷̛̗̫̥̝̖̊̅̊͛̉͆̍͟͠^̶̹̺̫̣̳̥̹͙̇̊̄̋̄̓:̴̲̫̯͈̲͍̻̝̒̒̀̎̍̎̉̓͠͝_̨̭͇̠͓̂̀̐̅̿̆̃͆͞-̤͎̲̝͔̬͉̊̓̃̊͜͢͝:̶̢̡͇̖͔̬͈̬̿͋̾͐̃͛̿̕͘^̥̖̜̼͓̊͒̅̂̉̽͋͞ͅ.͍̯͎̮̞͌͛̃͑̓͟͟v̪̺̠͕̹̪̆̔̆͊͋̕̚͘͢;̴̧̡̪̖̰̠̉͒̈́̄͊̽̚͟ *̤̳̬̝̲̘̤̭̣̍̋̓̓͆͑̇ͅv̖̣̦̦̠̐̔̄̒́̅͟ͅ`̢̧̢̺̱͕̌̾͊̑̇̔͘^̛̭͇̝̖̝̂͋̎̈́̓̑͗͜͝,̸̧̗̺̲̤̯͈̦̄́̾̿̈͋̾͘͠͠'̥̣͙̙͙̣͙͊̾̾̓̽͐̈͟͞_̸̨̥̻͉̳̭̣̪̪͈̄͛͑̌͛̌͠͠"̴̛͉̰̭̟̻̜̑̏̌͘-̵̖͍͎͈̬̪͍̙͐̏̏̇̿̎̓͑͋͠:̨̭͉̠̼̫̖͕͂̏͒͋̑̓̇͘͝~̵̛̗̣͔͚͓̠͉̦̤̑̄̿͛͟ ^̨̢̬̙̻͛͋̃̈͆\̨͕͈͓͇̊̉̈͂͟͠J̸̢̢̡̣͓̣̳̠̤̎͊͑͐̋̓̒̈̎̓^̴̧̞͕͚̰̘̮̪̣͌̈̉͌͑"̢̱̖̻̭͋̅̎͋͘͞`̵̳͍̗̘̹͍͉͚̞͌͗̄͂̃̎̔̉͝L͎̬͖͖̗͌͂͛͋̓̽̒̅̂͝^̧̱͖̩̋̋̂̓͐͘̚͜,̴̢̦̙̳͚͇̤͇̅̆̂̍̾̆̃͊͘͜'̸̨͇̮͔͇͎͈̘̑̈́͐̂͌̒͗̆͗̓v̢̛̝͉̠̥͆̈́̌̾̅͗̍̆_̴̨̝̖͕̹̞̰͍̽͆͊̕͝ͅͅ_̷̢̩͔͕͕̮̾̉͌̐̓̉͞͞`̶̨̖̞̭̗͂͆̉̽̚͞͡͡\̷̨̢̞͚̭̲̈́́̀̓̍̒̅̊͜-̸̨͔͇̼͈͍̪͒̿̆͗̐̋͘v̥̪̮̰̻͆́͌̂̚͡͡ ^̖̣͓̱͉̋͌̈͑̆̆̐͋̀͜͞_̴̨̭̙͇̟̃͐͊̂̃͜/̟̝̰̤͍̙͌̐͗̚͢͜\̘̗̤͈̱̼̳̬̌͌̊̏̕.̠̳͈͖̫̞͓̔̐̉͗̀̅̆̆:̵̢̧̬͕͖̪̿̌͋͒͒͟;͔͖͇͙̳͕͌̾̏́̈́͘͜͞͞L̴̻̞̯̰̜̩͍̩̣͑̂̅͗͝͠͞͠~̴̧̨̨̜̞̠̦̱̪͐͒̐͗̽͆̌͠/̴͚͚͓̤̣͔͉̞͖̽̅̽̕͟͞~̱̱̖͖̟̪͉̿̐̃͊̓͊̇̕͢͜͜'͈̝̩͇̩̒̀͂̂̏̊̋̽L̜͚̤̖͚̜̺͎̳̉̾̔̔͛̕͠v̧̠̯͓̟̟͍̩̖͇̄͗̈́̎́̍̂̃́/̴̡̳̹͚̺͖̖̗̉̍̀͘̚͢͠_̭̞͓̖̲̉̑̄̓̃͋͢͡͡͞^̺̦̭͚̝̃͒̀͗͑̕;̶̡̡̭̝̠̜͕̱̎̎̔̋͗͘͘͝͝\̢̳̞͇̖̖̊̃̍̿͌͞*̷̳̙̘̞̥͎̭̞̃̅͊̔̆͜͜'̵͎̠͍̼̘͉͖̮̟͓̒̊͒̽͘͞*͙̪͇̼̫̥̜̤̣̺̂͑̉̌̅̓̈́̚͡ *̜͍̥̻̘͕̥̐̓̉͋͠͡ͅ_̨̢̭͎͉̤͙͈̏̊̆̐̈́͑̈͘͘)

("That’s not any- you realize none of this is coming across, right?")


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More answers!

_Species 064  
_ _Official name: Novis patera distillatoria  
_ _Laymen name: Bowl Plant_

_The bowl plant is categorized as most similar to that of the Cactaceae (cactus) family. In line with the name given by the discovery team, the plant holds a smooth ‘bowl’ shape, with a hollowed half-sphere structure that sits flush to the ground. They appear a deep blue colour and measure anywhere from 5-30cm in diameter, and 3-25cm in height._

_The thick flesh of the bowl is tough and holds a thick fluid for better water retention, and the shape allows the plant to collect fallen rain water. Rather than absorb this water, the moisture triggers the release of a pheromone substance from its skin._

_These pheromones have been proven to attract all Seed-native Coleoptera (i.e. beetles), who will crawl into the bowl, only to drown in the collected water. The bowl plant is not carnivorous, however, and it is unknown why it preys upon beetles in this manner._

-Excerpt from page 111 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath when Steve spoke the words he’d hoped never to hear again. Not once had Steve mentioned them until now, and Bucky had been avoiding bringing any mention of it. He’d half hoped Steve would’ve forgotten it.

_Demon seed._

He quickly schooled his face. His first instinct was to call an end to the interrogation, but he pushed it down. Steve had spoken with him before and asked him not to- told Bucky he needed to explain it all as soon as he could.

A break wasn’t an end though, and Bucky could see the strain starting to take hold in how Steve held himself. He was leaning a little heavier into the supporting pillows, his hands more subdued where he gripped the blanket like a comfort.

“We should take a break” Bucky said, calling it there.

Steve gave him a look, _I asked you not_ _to end it for me_ _._

Bucky returned a look of his own, _it’s a break, not an end._

Steve let out a breath. “Yeah, alright” he acquiesced, rolling his eyes with everything _but_ his eyes in the way he did when he was humouring Bucky’s concerns.

He would’ve found it amusing if he wasn’t so caught up in everything Steve had just dropped on them.

_Broken machines. Malfunctioning tech. A random crash._

_An accident._

Bucky wanted to rage. He wanted to seethe at the injustice of it all. All of this, all the suffering, the deaths and the losses, because of an _accident_. Pure chance.

Fucking _machines_. Somebody _designed_ those things and the way they acted, and somehow that made it worse than if the bugs had been following some perverse animal instinct.

The committee were making their way out, moving slowly despite Tony’s verbal prodding and the rest of the team’s deadly glares. When the last one exited and the door closed behind them, Steve turned to him pointedly.

“Bucky” he said, communicating everything he needed in that one word.

“You need a break”

“You’re pushing it”

“ _You’re_ pushing it. This ain’t a fight, you don’t gotta be on point the whole time” he said as he reached over to the small stand by the bed and grabbed the cup of orange juice that had been set out earlier.

Steve lay back, sighing as he took the cup Bucky passed to him. “I know, but this is important. They’ve been firing missiles at the Seed for some time now- she’s worried they’re gonna escalate, and I am too. She’s honestly here by accident, all she wants is fix her ship and leave”

“So why hasn’t she already? She’s been here for months”

“Well, I _was_ gonna explain that, but then someone called a break before I could” Steve smiled wryly before taking a sip.

Bucky huffed, but in no way did he regret that. Already there was more energy coming back to Steve eyes and his shoulders relaxed where they’d tensed up. He’d been straining during his explanation, at a loss for the right words while he apparently tried to make sense of a translated alien language. The idiot always had to barrel forward to the finish line in one go.

“Punk” Bucky said fondly.

Steve’s brow furrow as he swallowed the mouthful of juice. “Punk?” he asked.

It was like a slap in the face.

For a second he was rendered speechless, blindsided by Steve’s confusion at their age-old line of banter. He caught Natasha’s eye from the other side of the bed, her own surprise showing as well.

_Missing letters._

Steve had seemed whole so far, and it had lulled Bucky into a sense of complacency. He should’ve expected to see something like this, but the harsh reality of it still stung.

“Bucky?” Steve asked when he didn’t answer. Natasha stayed quiet, tilting her head at Steve to indicate Bucky needed to say something. He searched for an answer that wouldn’t upset Steve.

“Nothing, it’s… nothing to worry about”

Steve gave him a shrewd look. “It’s not nothing”

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek. “I’ll explain it later. I promise it ain’t nothing big”

Steve gave him an assessing look, taking another sip of his drink. “It’s important to you” he finally said, then added “It’s something I would’ve recognized”

He still knew Bucky enough to read him like a book. A badly damaged book- _jesus_ , why was this analogy sticking with him?

“Yeah, but it’s between us, you don’t gotta hear about it right now. I swear I’ll tell you later” Bucky assured.

“I’m holding you to that” Steve swore, pointing at him around his cup.

Bucky tried to smile reassuringly, meanwhile wondering what else he was missing. Would hurt like that every time they stumbled across these blanks?

Had this been Steve’s life with him, never knowing what was and wasn’t there?

It wasn’t a good feeling.

“Captain Rogers, it has been ten minutes of the allotted break time. Would you like to extend your break or resume your testimonial?” Jarvis asked.

Steve gave Bucky a pointed look. “ _I’m_ good to go, are you?”

Bucky returned Steve’s look as he took the cup from him and put it back on the stand. “We’re fine, you can send them in, Jarvis”

“Very well”

Bucky would’ve liked to end the day all together, but Steve still had more to say. Bucky didn’t particularly want to hear it, whatever it was, but it probably needed to be said.

He would’ve liked more time before resuming, though. He hadn’t called the break just for Steve, it had been for himself too.

He’d needed the time to brace himself for _demon seed_.

* * *

[Transcript resume at 00:34:51]

MS: You’ve mentioned demon seed before, this was shortly after the first incident.

SR: Yes, that’s the name I called it while I was… while I was in the state I was in. At its core, it’s the equivalent of a computer virus. It infected the whole system, and… it altered the behaviour of the bugs and plants. It turned them all hostile, or disrupted their functions.

MS: And this virus was also an unfortunate coincidence?

SR: No, I mentioned a sabotage earlier, right?

MH: That’s correct.

SR: Yeah, so this virus was introduced by a… an extremist group.

JS: Is this group another alien faction? Could they be a threat to us?

SR: No, no, the group is… it’s internal politics, from her own planet. Their society has… problems, with their technology how it is. It’s caused a lot of… eugenic issues. And now there’s also a population issue on top of that, since they’ve, uh, cured death.

MS: With the cerebral transplants?

SR: Yes. They just make a new body when theirs gets old, and… people keep having kids. There’s groups trying to get rid a whole sex and make infertility… [pause] It’s a lot of eugenics and politics, we don’t need to get into the details. The point is that the problem keeps getting worse with no death… er, minimal deaths I guess.

The pilot’s mission was to scout new planets, uninhabited planets, they could expand to. But moving to a new planet means they have to adapt to it and change themselves into a new species, and there’s a lot of people against that idea- and that’s where the sabotage originated from. They wanted her mission to fail.

JS: The virus this group created, can it infect humans?

[extended pause]

SR: Can you say that in simpler words?

[pause]

SR: No. The virus isn’t an actual infectious virus. It doesn’t… target cells? It’s closer to a… an inherited disease. The technology constantly transfers data genetically, that's how it spread through the system.

MS: A genome-based virus is interesting, the knowledge it would take to design something like that… [pause] Sorry, continue.

SR: Right, so you all follow that the ship was sabotaged, the virus corrupted the technology, the technology became, I don’t know, lets call it feral, and it caused the pilot to die and the ship to crash here. Then the technology spread out because of corrupted instincts.

Is all of that clear?

[pause]

MH: Yes, we understand and followed your explanation so far.

TK: This still does not explain the incidents which you were involved in, nor the recent extinction, or the return of the pilot only now.

SR: The pilot was trapped in storage, like I said. If everything was working normally, she would’ve had a new body grown for her, but the virus disrupted all those protocols, and she was trapped in there.

TK: And she has only recently been able to come out because…?

SR: The virus was cured. Recently.

MS: Was that the extinction event? A system purge?

SR: Yes.

MS: Amazing. And the pilot fixed this, or… Were you… part of the anti-virus? It seemed like a change happened after you. After your second incident.

[pause]

SR: Yeah, this is where the first… incident, comes in. Viruses do happen to their systems, but normally they stay isolated enough to be dealt with by Slasher; that’s one of its jobs.

Slasher has an anti-virus protocol, but demon seed was designed to spread into every system, so even that was corrupted. It needed a clean source to run the program from, one that didn’t have the virus on it, and that’s pretty much impossible. Anything it made would’ve been corrupted too, so it looked… outside the system.

TK: To humans?

SR: To anything. Any living thing with a brain would’ve worked, because the virus couldn’t infect anything on Earth, which…

Okay, so there's. There’s safeguards in place, to stop this sort of thing, but the virus destroyed all of those. Without those guards, Slasher didn't have a anything holding it back from using an outside organism. The issue was that the corruption was also causing Slasher to… disassemble everything it worked on. Nothing survived the process until…

MS: Until it got a hold of you. It was the serum wasn’t it? Your blood got into the system, right?

MH: Doctor, please allow him to explain.

SR: No, he’s right. My blood got into the system and Slasher… backwards-built my anatomy? It knew my healing rate at least, and it had sensors looking for me.

MS: Sensors?

SR: A lot of the technology could still do some of their old jobs. There’s a plant that can pick up life… signals?… it doesn’t matter. Slasher knew I was more likely to survive and it was looking for me. And obviously it found me.

MS: And it, for lack of a better word, uploaded the anti-virus program to your mind? How does that work?

SR: Part of it was the growths. It… hijacked my neurons…? [pause] Okay, let’s just say my mind was hijacked by a computer program. I was running their software in my brain, and it took over a lot of my uh, cognitive abilities, I think the doc called it? And the rest of it was…

The growths were really the only intended part, the rest of it was corrupted behaviour, with the, you know, disassembly.

JB: [indistinct]

SR: [whispered] Not now, please, just… We’ll talk about it later.

MS: So the drawings, that was you writing in the alien language to cure this virus?

SR: It. Yes and no… the drawings were… it was a language but, it was the machine’s language. If you showed those drawings to the pilot, she wouldn’t be able to make sense of them either.

MS: Like actual machine language?

SR: What?

MS: In our terms, machine language is used by computer processors. It’s numerical so the computer can run it as fast as possible, but programmers can’t read it either. Not without devoting hours to memorizing thousands of lines.

SR: Yeah, that’s… she says that’s exactly it, on the internal level. My drawings translated into that, except it was a. [pause] An abstract visual of the code? It’s meant for the machines to read easily.

MS: [whispered] That’s a… [aloud] That’s a barcode. You’ve been visualizing complex data into barcodes! Slasher’s been carving data into- well, it’s been, uh, communicating… and the coin beetles! That was all barcode on their shells?

SR: The. [pause] Yeah, the coin beetles are… fast information delivery.

MS: We noticed the patterns on the new generation is different, is that related to the virus removal? Were the old patterns corrupted files, so to speak?

MH: If I may, we were on the topic of the incident. This is not a scientific inquiry.

MS: Yes, sorry.

SR: Right. Okay, so, it was… All those months I was drawing, that was all spent creating an anti-virus. And then when it was complete, I had to deliver it to Slasher. At this point the program was controlling a lot of my actions, and I, I couldn’t stop myself. I had to get to Slasher by any means.

TK: Were you aware of what would happen if you did?

SR: Honestly, I don’t remember much near the end, after the, uh, the worm incident. But I walked right into its jaws, so. [pause] I guess I had some understanding.

MS: Were you aware that you’d be revived?

[pause]

SR: I don’t know. I had. I had an understanding that the pilot would be revived, it was all Slasher could think about, and… And maybe I guessed I would be too.

MS: All Slasher could think about? Were you also in communication with it?

[pause]

SR: No, it. The anti-virus program in my head was like a, a smaller version of Slasher’s mind. I could… feel it’s thoughts, a little. A copy of its thoughts. Is that right?

JB: Can [indistinct] he can rest.

MH: Yes, let’s continue to the second incident, we don’t need to go into details of the experience at this time.

SR: After I had the anti-virus ready and was at the zone building, there was, there was the worms, and I’m pretty sure I called Slasher with them. It was a, a bastardization of this. [Note: Captain Rogers indicates alien growth at left ear]

Once I called Slasher, it. It had to get the anti-virus from me. [pause] You know how the rest of that went.

MS: And once the anti-virus was acquired, the system purged itself, and then rebuilt inside the Seed. And the pilot had access again, and she rebuilt your body.

MH: Doctor, please allow Captain Rogers to explain.

SR: He’s right though. That’s the rest of it, and. And, and I think I’d like to end to this now.

JS: We still have more questions-

JB: He said [indistinct] over.

MH: Of course. Thank you for your time, we can reconvene again on a later date at your discretion. I believe everything you’ve said has been sufficient for a broad understanding of the situation, would you all agree?

TK: I suppose.

MS: Yes, this, you provided so many answers, you don’t even know.

JS: It’s enough…

MH: Then we can-

SR: Wait, General. [pause] The pilot, she’s asking you to stop firing weapons at her ship.

[pause]

JS: … I’ll talk with my superiors.

[pause]

MH: I think we can call an end to this. Thank you all for your time.

[Transcript ends 01:18:57]

  
(Example of machine language in a W65C816S single-board computer. [Source](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Machine_code#/media/File:W65C816S_Machine_Code_Monitor.jpeg))


	37. Chapter 37

_Implementing high-yield drone strikes to clear out the Occupied Zone offers many benefits and risks, summarized below._

_Benefits_

  * _Guarantees complete destruction of high-density area of Seed-native organisms_
  * _Limited environment impact beyond Occupied Zone border_
  * _Easily controlled impact sites_



_Risks_

  * _High chance of surviving organisms at outer field of impact_
  * _Destruction of natural landmarks and stone deposits_
  * _Noise may put unwanted stress on wildlife beyond Occupied Zone border_
  * _High chance of Slasher surviving_
  * _May aggravate Seed-native organisms, Slasher included_



_We will now go into detail of each benefit and risk factor, as well as the different explosive materials and yield which may effect them._

-Excerpt of Section 4, Project Ripley, page 6, now deemed obsolete

* * *

Bucky heard a sigh, and he tucked the book he’d been reading aside, watching as Steve slowly roused from sleep.

He’d practically passed out as soon as the committee left the room, and Bucky had stayed with him as their friends and the doctors flit in and out. Now it was the middle of the night, the lights turned low and the floor quiet. Bucky had half expected Steve to sleep through until morning, but the small gurgles of his stomach spoke of his recovering body’s hunger.

He reached over and grabbed the covered tray of food, laying it on his lap as he waited.

Steve groaned tiredly, eyes slowly blinking open. He caught sight of Bucky, and a small smile pulled his lips.

“Hey” he rasped, voice still heavy with sleep.

“Hey. Up for some food?” Bucky asked, already hitting the button to shift the bed up.

“Feels like I’m starving” he said, hands reaching out to take the tray Bucky passed him.

“You slept for fourteen hours, I’m not surprised”

Steve unwrapped the tray and huffed when he saw the spread.

“Peanut butter sandwiches?”

“Weren’t sure when you’d wake, needed something fatty that could sit out”

Steve was already stuffing one in his mouth. “Not complanin’, I’d eat outta the jar right now” Steve said between mouthfuls. He cleared off the whole tray in short work, finishing by guzzling his water so fast some of it dribbled down his chin. Bucky didn’t comment on it.

“Still hungry?”

“No, that was plenty” Steve said, wiping the water off with the back of his arm. He looked Bucky up and down as he handed the tray back.

“Did you sleep at all?” he asked.

Bucky gave a small shrug. It was obvious he hadn’t.

Steve gave him a pointed look, but he didn’t say anything more about it. Bucky had the feeling he’d be curling up at Steve’s side before the night ended, and he was perfectly fine with that.

“So you’re feeling alright?” Bucky asked, deflecting the focus back to Steve.

Steve nodded, adjusting himself in bed. “Yeah. Still tired, but… not bad”

“Good. That’s good”

“Yeah”

Steve looked off into the room like he was considering something, then turned back to Bucky. He reached his hand out, laying it palm up on the bad, silently making his request. Bucky reached over easily and they interlaced their fingers, holding hands.

“You probably missed this, huh?” Steve noted sadly while he ran his thumb back and forth across Bucky’s knuckle.

Bucky kept his gaze down at their joined hands. “I missed all of you” he said softly, his voice unexpectedly choked. Steve squeezed his hand once. He didn’t let go.

“Tell me about ‘punk’” Steve said, changing topic to something less heavy.

A sad smile broke out on Bucky’s face, the question falling bittersweet on him. There’d been a time when he’d forgotten about their punk/jerk affection too, until it had come back to him almost naturally one day. The look on Steve’s face when he’d called him a punk could’ve lit the whole city, and Bucky could still see some of that glow every time they said it to each other.

“It’s something we’d say, when one of us is bein’ an ass, or an idiot. I’d call you a punk, you’d call me jerk, or you’d call me a jerk, I’d call you punk”

“And what’s it mean?”

“What, ‘punk’?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah. I know what jerk is; is it the same thing?”

Bucky chuckled. “Close enough. Means you’re more of a troublemaker. Or an idiot. A dumbass, reckless, mulish. Ornery, bratty, moronic- oh, and hotheaded, can’t forget that”

“You’re makin’ some of that up” Steve scoffed.

“Pal, I’m just listing your personality at this point”

“Oh, lay off” Steve pshawed, and Bucky let out another laugh. Then, Steve added, “Jerk”

It came out stilted on Steve’s tongue- unsure and forced. It killed Bucky’s smile where it stood.

“You don’t- you don’t gotta. If it doesn’t feel right” Bucky said, more somber now.

Steve frowned, but there was a stubborn look in his eyes. “No it’s… I know there’s things I won’t get back,” he said, and that hit too close to home, “but I- but _this_ , I can try to. I know it ain’t the same, but it’s something I can actually work on,” then he looked Bucky in the eye, the first sign of hesitation showing, “If it’s okay with you. I know how hard it is to rebuild something we used to have”

Bucky felt like an idiot. How many times had he forced himself into new habits to try and get back control? Things like smiling, laughing, asking for help. It always came out awkward at first; until it hadn’t, and he’d started doing these things on his own.

God, Steve must’ve had the patience of a saint with him. How many forced smiles had he endured before Bucky’s facial expressions became natural?

“Yeah, we can try” he said, swallowing down his shame. There would be a learning curve for both of them, and he couldn’t let these small things drag him down again. He’d already lost himself when Steve had been gone, he couldn’t throw this gift away because it might be _difficult_ for him.

So then he added, in a tone about as stilted as Steve’s had been, “Punk”

There was a beat, and then Steve was turning his head away and laughing. “Christ, we’re a pair now, ain’t we?” he wheezed. Bucky joined in on the laughter, quickly wiping away the moisture at his eyes.

“Matching set, jesus” Bucky laughed. It really shouldn’t have been funny, except it was.

How ridiculous were they? Bad enough Bucky was fucked in the head, and now Steve had gone ahead and followed after him in this too. Jesus, the absurdity of their lives.

Eventually their laughter petered out, and they fell into a soft silence. Their hands were still clasped together, and occasionally one would squeeze the other, like a quiet pulse of connection.

The hour grew even later, and eventually Steve gave Bucky a look, inviting him into the bed. He didn’t give it a second thought as he squeezed in, the two of them curling up together like they had the previous night. Bucky rested his head on Steve’s chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat soothe the lingering ache.

Between their combined exhaustion, they should’ve fallen asleep easily, but there was something still eating at Steve, and it kept both of them awake. Bucky could feel the subtle tension as whatever thought Steve was having kept circling his mind, and if he didn’t drop it soon, Bucky was going to have to ask.

A few minutes later, he didn’t have to.

“You know Rose is god?” he said, breaking the silence. “To the machines, I mean” he added. He kept his gaze upwards at the ceiling, so Bucky kept his own down on Steve’s chest. If he didn’t want to look Bucky in the eye for this, then that was fine.

He had a guess at what Steve was getting at. “God is dead” he said, hating the feel of those words leaving his mouth- but better than coming from Steve’s.

“Yeah” Steve agreed. “Slasher killed its own creator, and it went a little crazy from it. More crazy than what demon seed had caused”

Bucky shivered.

“The way they think isn’t like anything we can imagine, but I had to think like them anyway, and… I don’t know, religion seemed to fit best. Every thought was a concept, and the program sacrificed language for processing. I had to use _something_ to communicate”

“So you used Catholicism?”

“It was as close as I could get to… I don’t know how to describe it. I felt like I had a fanatic in my head- I felt like _I_ was a fanatic. It’s how they are, everything just _is_ to them”

“So the, the solution, and the dogma and resurrection, that was all…?”

“It was all Slasher’s way of thinking. It doesn’t- there’s no _belief_. It’s all real, their god walks among them and gives them their reason to live, and I mean that literally It’s all… clinical, I guess. And it was all I could think about”

“ _Christ”_ Bucky swore.

“And it doesn’t _mean_ anything now” Steve went on, a bite to his voice. “It’s all _gone_ , and I didn’t realize until I started hearing you guys talk about it”

“What do you mean?”

“She had to get rid of the coding, right? I told you Rose cleared all programming out of my head?”

“Yeah”

“Well, all that religious talk was mixed up in it, and she had to get rid of it too”

Bucky looked up at Steve then, not understanding what that implied. “So what does that mean?”

“It means that none of it _means_ anything to me. Jesus, christ, god, heaven, hell, communion, holy eucharist, benediction- they’re just words now, there’s nothing there for me”

“You were always having conflicts-”

“This isn’t a _conflict_ , Buck” Steve bit out, “I’m not doubting- god doesn’t exist for me anymore. It’s all gone”

Bucky was silent for a moment. He and Steve had talked about it on and off through the years. Questioning faith, questioning themselves.

Steve had only put the rosary away two years ago, and Mass had gone from a weekly event to holiday attendances. Bucky could see the gradual slide happening, but ultimately, it had always been Steve’s journey to take, and there was no telling where he was going to land on his belief.

Bucky, on the other hand…

“You remember I told you that when I was with Hydra, I didn’t know what God _was?”_ he said. “Church was just a place a target might frequent, religion was a side note in their file. It didn’t mean anything to me either. It all got burned outta my head, hasn’t been back since. So I get it. It’s rough but…”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “It doesn’t work like that. It’s not the same”

“Pal, I think on this one it’s close enough”

Steve closed his mouth, a stubborn set to his jaw that said he didn’t quite agree, but he wasn’t willing to argue about it right now.

“Steve, if you wanna talk about it more-”

“Stop, _stop_ , I don’t-” Steve cut in, turning his head away. “I just- I wanted you to know, Buck”

Bucky sighed quietly, hurting to see Steve like this. There was a despondence there that Bucky was painfully familiar with- an ache at having lost something, and the worse feeling of not missing it because you didn’t quite remember what it was in the first place.

It would only get harder too. At least Bucky had started empty, he’d only had more to gain as time went on. Steve would have to first walk through the minefield of his head and root out all the missing pieces before they could start rebuilding, and it would be a hell of a time. He didn’t blame Steve for not wanting to confront all of it right away.

“We should try to sleep” he said, giving Steve an out.

“Yeah” Steve sighed, the tension loosening. If Bucky could, he would take all Steve’s worries away. This was as good as he could do right now.

“Goodnight”

“Goodnight Buck”

Sleep didn’t come to either of them quickly after, but exhaustion won out eventually, and they both drifted into an uneasy rest.

  
(“Can you not rebuild your belief?”)  
("̴̺̥̖͈͈̰̺͔̻͓͋͐͒͗͛/̦͇̳̝̫͍̽̋̃̓̆̕͢͞:̷̨̨̳̖̱͕̆̒̾̐̀͢͜\"̵̡̧̜̱͔̻͔̰̽̿̇͘J̴̨̢̙̯̯͑̈̽̈́͡͡ "̖̟̬̺͈̈̎̾̇̄͛͘͝,̸͇̖̥͎̯̼̼̖̌̊̔̌͡'̶̫̪̱̥̬̝̱͎̈͛̋̉̉͑̋"̦̖͎̘̳̝͕͕͛̈́̍̓͑̉̚͞ͅ "̵̨̦͇̙̣̞̐̂̂̔͟͠͞ͅ`͍̞̱͕̱͚͑͂̋̔̋̽J̶͉͎̝͚͓̺͚̄̎͛̄͠,̪̥̮͎̩̱̠̮͋̈́́͗̃̚͢*̨̡͉͎̩̘̖̥̀͆͊̅̅̎͞-̵̡͉̹̱͖͎́̀̆́͊̒̆͘͠)

(“It doesn’t work like that. It’s not the same”)  
``(“Pal, I think on this one it’s close enough”)``

(“If your belief was tied into the words, perhaps there was no belief at all? My [species-culture] has forms of religion, and many conflict in [origin-creation]. I think such things to be false, perhaps this has been your experience as well”)  
(^̴̧͖̻̗̬̲͕̳͗̉̏̿̏̑͋͝;̴̮͉͉̮͎͐͂̀̇͋̚v̨̜͕̙̻̽̏̇́̈́͗͂͞;͍̺̹̞͉͖̟̘̋̓̂̂̚,̴̢͙̪͙͚̱̏̇̚̚͟͢͠'̮̯̭͚̟̤̠́̔͐̈́̊̿̐̂͘͟͞ .̡͇̝̪̝͈̲̼̪̥̍̉̍͡͞J̡͍͕̼͑̒̋̉͆͢^̷̢̯̣̭͖̒̾̀͛͘͢͡:̵̡̛̙̯͇͍̗͎͙͎̣̃̀̏͐̉͡v̴̢̖͍͇̼̙̗͖̼̥̂̊͆͂̋͘:̡̳͙̼͙̍͆́̂̽̓̾͜͝\̡̙̘̱͈̰̣̬̆̆̓̏̏̆͘͟_̢̪͔̯͕̞̦̮̌̿͛̈́̒̂'͇̠̥̹̖̥̺̲̦̐͊̽̄̎̓̿͢_̷̨͎̝̮̯̏̏͋͑̊̕_̡̟̯̩̹̣̎͛̿͌͊̇͠͝͞;̸̢̨͈̖̗̻̰̖̗̜͗̈͊̿͠͝^͖̣̤̘̳̳̜̫̱̒̇̒̀̇̊ ,̧̡̤̙̮̭͙͍̿̄̎̍͘͜:̵̦̜̻̼̙͍̲̉͊̓̎̚.̴̨̬̯̪͎̞̯͈̗͈͛̏̂̾͝*̡̛̤̹̮̳̹͔̦̉̆͌̈́͞"̸̢̥̼̰̼̮̲̗̇͒͂͂̀͟J̷̹͇̫̪̜̣̹͑̉̑͌͝͝:̸̭̦̖̹͙̬͈͈̑̍̓͑͛̊̚;̢̰̥̫̬̣͈͑̑̔̏͗̽́̚͝;̨̡̳̖̹̩͔̠̝̏̔̏̕͠͝͞;̡̰̟͇̹̮͖̯̼̀̆̌͛͆̏͊̿̕͟,̠͚̯͙̪̆̍̒̋̑̀̕͜͠"̥̻̜̞̲̞̣̿͋̆͆͆̄̈́̑̚͘͢`̜͓̻̙̝͇͉̍̒͊̓̈̕͡~̸̼̫̺̪͓̋̌̐͐̅͂̔\̭͓͈̱̘͛͒͑̏̏;̢̛͍̘̙͍̣̤͈͌̈̀̑̍̚͡/͚̦̯͎̾͐̄̂̈́̊͗͜͜͝'̰͔̪̪͚̮̂͋̌̉͋~̵̨̧̳̬̞̦̖̳̒̅̇͒̾̾̈́̆͢͠-̖͙̫͎̺͙͎̮͍̤̂̊̍̓̽͝/̡̨̛͓̹͕͓̗̙̯̉̾̆̒͡_̛̲̺̫͉͖̲͖̪̣͒̽̂̑̍̐͑̏̿*̨͔̲͈̗̠̮̠̠͑̏̄̄̚͜'̸̹̝͇̞̬͗́̀͡͝͞"̨̜̤̖̘͕̆͑͑̔ͅ\̶̨̧̨̪̑̏̓̓̈́͜-̵̡̲̜̞͆̽͒́͋ͅ_̢̲̠̞̫̭̱̈̒̏̇͘͠'̱͚̺̖͍̮̑̐̌̄̽̉̈͂͠.̶̳̝͔̼͍͇͌̒͆̅̋̎̉́̿̇͢/̸̡̘̩̱͋̓̒̏̽͜'̺̫̜̟̠̓̿͛͆̑͜͠,̶̳̰̲͚͖͑̈̊͛͊͗͟͞͞,̶̨̨̡̬̻͍̤͉̓̍̾͋̄͠͡.̶̯̼̩̝̳̔̏̋̑̆̾̕͢͠͡"̴̛̻̞̘̞̹̼͔̬̰̐̒̕͝͡*̨̨͈̗̝̘͗̊̈́͗͐'̡̢̨̛̮͍̭̪̝̍̑̄̂̒͂̑ͅ;͕̟͖̝̮̹̉̒̔̇̓.̶̩̜̭͉̪̱͇̞̯̿̀̅̄̇̾͟͞/̵̨̢̬̖͚̺͚̪̳͆̍̓̅̏͟/̴͉̺̘̖́̈͛͂͆͋ͅ^̡̛̦͚̥̬͓̪̗̎̌̍͊͗̒̑ͅ:̛̩̥̞͕̤̄̉̔̐͟-͎̣͙̗̘͔̊͌̅̂̅̉̓̒̃̚͢_̡̪̤͈̩̞͂̑̆̑̇̓̂̆̈͞J̢͔̹̗͇͍̘̓̌͗͑̌͆͂͛͟'̷̨̛̙̜̞̭̠̗͔͚̦͋͊̈́͊̽̚͠͝)

``(“Steve, if you wanna talk about it more-”)``  
(“Stop, _stop_ , I don’t… I just- I wanted you to know, Buck”)


	38. Chapter 38

_In light of recent revelation of the alien organism as forms of biomachinery, we have made several efforts to study their organic mechanisms in the scope of artificial construction._

_Several discoveries have been found, leading to a conclusion of anti-reproduction protocols in this technology- that is to say, similar to how a company may include copy restrictions on their software to prevent piracy._

_It has been noted in the past that these organisms cease reproductive behaviour when a sufficient distance away from the Seed, both with sexual and asexual methods, meaning sustainable breeding efforts are not an option. It is theorized that specific electrical signals originating from the Seed are what allow for reproductive behaviour, and efforts are being made to locate and recreate these signals._

_The option of cloning has also been explored, and has similarly come to an inconclusive result. Attempts have found the semiconservative replication of the alien cells do not transfer chromosomes to their daughter cell, preventing duplication, and ultimately, reproduction. There is an unknown factor that is preventing the transfer, and as of yet we are unable to find it._

_More attempts are being made to find a method of replicating this technology, however, time is limited to the remaining specimens lifespan as we are unable to procure more species, and there is a high chance the remaining specimens will die out before an answer is found._

-Excerpt from page 2 of _Harriman Xeno-biotechnology_ , Study by Dr. Daniel Booth, Dr. Aiden Hitomo, _et al_.

* * *

“You’re sure you gotta be there for it?” Bucky asked.

“You know I do” Steve said, loading another box onto the military truck.

He was lifting crates of ‘donated biomass’. The boxes were stuffed with slaughterhouse leftovers and raw manure, and they stank to high heaven.

There was another truck packed with freshly chopped wood and lawn shavings, but that had already been filled by the time they got to the border of the Occupied Zone. Steve hadn’t been able to sit still while they waited though, and he’d volunteered to help load the second truck to move things along.

Rose needed more raw organics to grow parts and fix her ship, so as a sign of good faith, they’d be delivering two trucks worth of it while they introduced Earth’s representatives to the pilot.

Bucky wasn’t going anywhere near those crates, however, and he settled on watching from the side while Steve burned off his nervous energy.

Three weeks of recovery had been all he needed to get back into prime shape. There’d been a dicey period near the beginning when they realized his body didn’t have any intestinal bacteria to help him digest as well as he could’ve, but that had been a quick fix- though both he and Steve could’ve gone the rest of their lives not knowing what a stool transplant was.

Still, after the adjustment period, Steve put back weight by the pound, until he was fit enough to have excess energy. Another week of exercise and he was practically back to his physical norm.

The muscles around his organs was still an issue- his body didn’t consider them a foreign mass. He’d always have that extra tissue inside him- unless he went ahead with Cho’s surgery to have it removed. Steve was still deciding on that, the muscles not causing any problems at the moment.

The growth at his ear was still there too, and it left him in constant communication with the pilot since becoming the official ‘representative’ for both sides, though his position only amounted to a glorified translator. Every day there were meetings with the UN and scientific teams and military officials, all wanting to speak with the Rose. It was exhausting enough for Bucky, and ten times worse for Steve.

This trip was going to change all that, though.

Steve never wanted this position, the situation had forced it out of necessity, but now they had a contingent of _actual_ representatives who’d volunteered to get the same implant as Steve.

There’d been an initial hesitance when he’d put the request forward, asking for someone else to take the responsibility. Questions were asked for alternative means of communication, and it had been another look at how alien these people were.

“ _They communicate through electric signals. They have… special organs that makes electricity in their hands and face, like eels. There’s some noises and body signals used to talk, but it’s… it’s mostly used for swearing, or, to be expressive”_

“ _They do have a written language, but… Rose can’t read or write it. It’s, it’s like braille for them, or sign language. Only historians and hobbyists, and the, uh, disabled use it, and there aren’t many given the technology. Disabilities are a choice for them- it’s a political statement”_

There’d been a lot of probing to find an alternative, and most people baulked at the thought of getting roots and _worms_ put in their head- though things had gone much faster once Russia stepped in.

Without any fanfare, the Russian delegate put himself forward as the first volunteer, and just like that, suddenly _all_ the invested countries had volunteers too.

Now they had a total of _seventeen_ representatives, some of them already diplomats of their own countries, others being scientists, and a few ranking military officials. Of course, Mike was part of this group, and Bucky couldn’t think of a better role for him.

This last week, on top of recovery, had been especially busy for Steve. He’d gotten stuck acting as go-between for both sides as they organized the meeting.

But once it was over, then it wouldn’t be Steve’s problem anymore, and he and Bucky could retreat back to the tower to take much needed time away from the whole mess.

And they desperately needed that time to work on what Steve had lost.

Much of it was subtle, and it was far easier to make the discoveries in the tower where they were secure from outside threats and the public eye. Steve’s mind was a minefield of holes, and the controlled environment was exactly what they needed to explore it, _without_ any outside influences distracting them.

As he watched Steve work, he thought back to some of the discoveries they’d already made.

Some of them were small and barely a problem.

The day they let go of Steve’s remaining caretakers, Kevin and Magdalena, he’d insisted on thanking them for all the work they did. It had been a little awkward at first, Steve only remembering them vaguely, but the only hiccup had been when Kevin offered his hand.

Steve had looked perplexed for a moment before hesitantly taking it, and Bucky didn’t think much of it at the time. It was only afterwards when Steve asked about did he realize.

“ _What was that hand thing about?”_

“ _The handshake?”_

Steve had forgotten what handshakes were.

Another time they were making french toast for breakfast, and he’d asked Steve to get the egg batter ready- which was how they discovered Steve forgot how _eggs_ worked.

“ _Do I… slice them?” he asked, looking at the open carton._

Ultimately, these things were harmless. Bucky would tell him how it worked, or show him how something was done, and then problem solved; Steve knew how to shake hands and crack eggs again. Simple things that could be relearned.

Other things weren’t so easy.

Music had been a huge part of Bucky’s life, and it had been one of the first things he’d picked back up after Hydra. It brought not only memories, but simple joy back into his life.

It seemed a good starting point as any to explore. He figured if Steve didn’t remember any of the songs, then they could rediscover them together- they had a whole record collection they could go through, after all.

He’d sat Steve down at the couch and got the player out, putting on something familiar to start. They listened to the entirety of Shanghai Shuffle before Bucky shut it off, the look of complete puzzlement on Steve’s face telling him there was something missing there.

“ _Not ringin’ any bells?” Bucky asked, smiling sympathetically._

“ _Buck,” Steve said, turning to him in confusion. “What the hell was that?”_

“ _They used to play it at dance halls, we-”_

“ _No, Buck, that wasn’t… that was just noise”_

_A pause._

“ _What?”_

“ _That wasn’t music”_

Cho called it amusia.

It was the technical name for music deafness.

Steve couldn’t perceive the changes in notes and pitches, nor in rhythm. It was all a collection of noises to him- like banging pots and pans together. Voices were fine, he had no trouble with the subtleties in conversation, but any kind of melody fell flat on him.

Still, they tried testing it with other songs. They tried classics like Mozart and Beethoven, then the more familiar like Benny Goodman, Paul Whiteman, Sophie Tucker. They moved through the decades, through the genres, but nothing stuck. Every time, Steve would say it was noise.

Steve had said it was more than just his memories that were missing, but this was…

The real rub of it was, Steve _remembered_ music. He knew what it had felt like to listen to it, remembered following along and watching Bucky dance to the beat. Remembered Bucky’s attempts to teach him how to dance, which had turned into an excuse to hold each other. Sometimes they’d just stand in their apartment and sway together.

If Steve sat down and _really_ listened to a song, he could catch the pattern in it. He could pick up the timing of the sounds, pick out the instruments, hear the words spoken and know that they rhymed. He could pick it apart as good as a mechanic disassembling an engine, but he couldn’t appreciate it for what it was.

This wasn’t something he could relearn. Steve had lost music forever, and it was devastating.

Steve would sit there on the couch, a record spinning over and over as he desperately tried to find the tune. Sometimes he left it spinning, unaware that the noise coming out of it wasn’t a song until a minute passed and he realized the record had reached the end.

Bucky couldn’t bear it, and he eventually got rid of the player altogether. He moved their records into a closet to be dealt with later, the small collection too painful to have around but too cherished to throw away.

He had to ask Tony to block Jarvis from playing any music for Steve, and that hadn’t so much caused an argument as left Steve a mess, the final straw to moving passed his denial. He’d crumbled onto the couch and curled in on himself, shaking in Bucky’s arms.

“You had two left feet anyway, what do ya need music for?” Bucky had tried to joke, comforting Steve the best he could, ‘Sides, you got my gorgeous voice to listen to” he added, earning a tearful laugh from Steve.

It would take a long time before Steve could accept this loss, but it was something.

But that was a long term problem to work on, on top of whatever else may lay ahead of them. Right now, however, they had today’s problem, which would hopefully be sorted in a few short hours.

“Alright, that’s the last of it” Steve said, huffing as he hauled the last crate onto the truck. Bucky curled his lip as a breeze sent the rotting smell his way for a second. Steve didn’t seem bothered, and there was another thing to check- was his sense of smell altered?

Bucky wouldn’t bring it up now, but he made a mental note to ask about it later.

“Thank you, sir” a soldier said, one of the few who wasn’t avoiding Steve, nor looking nervously at the worms at his ear. Steve gave him a nod as he passed, meeting Bucky where he leaned against a jeep.

“One more check and then we’ll move out” Steve said unnecessarily. They both knew the protocol.

“You gonna be okay for this?” Bucky asked, leveling Steve with an assessing look. He’d gone a little pale at the collar, a fine sweat on his brow despite how little of an effort the lifting had been. They weren’t even inside the zone yet, and he was already like this?

“It’ll pass” Steve said, getting right to the point. “I want to be done with it and- no, it’s fine. We discussed the plan, just take it out and we’re square”

Bucky nodded, assuming the last part had been directed at Rose. He looked over and saw the convoys were getting ready, the diplomats getting in their jeeps with their military escorts.

He nudged Steve, pushing off the door he’d been leaning on so he could open it. The two of them were riding alone, a small privilege afforded to them at least.

Bucky got into the driver seat while Steve went around and got in the passenger.

He started the jeep and pulled up into position with the rest on the convoy, idling as they waited for the orders to move out. Steve had his window rolled down and rested his elbow on it, looking out towards the dead forest.

“Sure you’re good?” Bucky asked one last time.

Steve turned to him, letting some of the exhaustion show on his face. “I just want it to be over”

* * *

The drive up to the Seed felt like it went faster than the first time. It helped that they could pull right up to it, the electric field now gone. Steve said it had been an issue of insulation, but Rose had it fixed.

Unfortunately, it would still be present inside the ship itself, forcing Bucky to put his metal arm in a sling so it didn’t drag at his shoulder.

They all parked in a line to the side, the two trucks backing in so their loads faced the entrance. Everyone was exiting their vehicles to group outside the Seed’s entrance, running a final check on their equipment as the representatives nervously idled.

He and Steve were in their full combat gear- minus Steve’s helmet and shield- and the familiar uniforms offered comfort not only to themselves but the others too. Seeing Captain America again had that effect on people.

Steve looked into the entrance and frowned, then muttered a quiet ‘ _alright_ ’ before turning to the group.

“I need everyone to step back” he called, motioning for the group to move away from the entrance. “She’s collecting the biomass, gotta clear the space”

A moment later, after everyone had stepped aside, a small army of… lobsters?… marched out. They moved directly to the two trucks, swarming them and rifling through their contents, opening crates in groups.

It looked like complete chaos at first, but lines started to form as the lobsters would each grab little handfuls from the crates and make their way back into the Seed, like a colony of ants at a picnic.

“Alright, we’re clear to go” Steve said, stepping forward and addressing the military lead.

The officer looked at the stream of bugs uncomfortably. “You sure?” she asked.

Steve nodded. “Just stick in a line and follow my lead”

Steve led them inside, Bucky at his heel, and he watched as the lines of lobsters moved out of Steve’s way, parting like water to let them pass. Bucky glanced back to see the line of people following them, all of them sticking as close to the wall as possible to avoid the bugs.

The tunnel was better lit that last time, a line or orange glowing beetles on the ceiling and walls offering weak light for them to see by.

It was a short walk, and together they passed through the static barrier at the inner opening. Behind them, the contingent of representatives and their respective guards entered hesitantly, gawking at the alien forest inside.

At their feet, the army of insects still moved, one line coming in with the biomass and one line going out empty-handed. Both processions turned sharply to the left once inside the Seed, disappearing into the thick orange bushes.

Bucky noted a difference from the last time he’d been here. The plants looked more cultivated, less like a jungle and more like a garden, the vegetation organized into groups, or spaced out in a line like fence posts, and the hanging lichen sat higher and above their heads so nobody had to duck to avoid them.

The lighting was also brighter, more white-glowing beetles sitting around. It was bright enough that their eyes barely needed to adjust after coming in from the sunlight. The path was more obvious too, with all the plants now cleared away to make it obvious where they should walk.

He wondered how much of this had been done specifically for their arrival.

The soldiers all nervously gripped their weapons, eyeing the bugs that moved around them, twitching when something bigger than four feet poked through the foliage.

Both Steve and Rose had said it was alright to come armed- so long as they didn’t actually _use_ their weapons. It wasn’t like they’d do any good anyway, and to Bucky it looked like one spook away from a disaster, but he kept that to himself.

In a reversal of roles, Bucky had actually come with _less_ weapons. A holstered handgun at his thigh with two extra clips, and four knives tucked in places easily reached with his only working arm.

It was enough to deal with a human threat, because in a place like this, that was all Bucky would be able to defend against.

They made their way to the back of the cavern where the open chamber lay- where he’d first gotten Steve back.

Slasher sat at the far end, same as last time, coiled and still. Bucky had spent close to a day in its presence, and though he wouldn’t call himself _desensitized_ to it, neither was he paralyzed by the sight of the monster, and his hatred for it still burned strong.

The ripple of fear as the others saw it was palpable, but his focus was on Steve’s reaction.

Steve froze only for a moment, locked in a stare with the creature. Before Bucky could offer comfort, however, Steve was turning his head away sharply and powering forward.

“This way” he said, leading them to the side.

Bucky followed closely, eyeing the cavern for anything that was off- though it was difficult to tell when _everything_ seemed off by nature.

There wasn’t much different from the first time he’d been here, and the fact of that was concerning given the drastic changes in the forest they’d just walked through.

On the one wall were the three skulls again, but what set Bucky on edge was the other wall, where two sacs hung again, which was not at all okay.

“ _Steve”_ Bucky whispered, tilting his head towards the sacs with a concerned look.

Steve looked over at them, his lips thinning. “Why am I looking at two more growth-pouches?”

A pause, and then a considering hum. The look of concern lessened.

Steve turned to Bucky. “It’s two copies of herself. Backups” he explained. “She’s… it’s a precaution” he added, quieter so only Bucky could hear, and tilted his head to one of the guns the soldiers were carrying. Bucky nodded in understanding, then looked to the sacs again. It still didn’t sit right with him.

Steve brought them to a cleared space near the wall, only a few yards from the three skulls that hung like decorations. The dirt was packed more tightly here, and there wasn’t an insect in sight. There were also two rows of… something, lining the ground. They looked like thick rounded stones with a flat top curving inwards like a shallow bowl, each sitting at about two feet tall.

Steve turned to the group behind them and motioned to the strange mounds. “You can take a seat if you want” he said, though made no move to sit himself.

“These are… chairs?” one of the diplomats asked, eyeing them suspiciously.

“Yeah” Steve said, then nearly rolled his eyes, “She grew them for the meeting, if you want to sit. She hopes it’s ‘to your comfort’” he added, and Bucky could practically hear where he was repeating her words.

There was a moment of hesitance, and then slowly, the delegates each took a seat. Bucky chose to stand with Steve and the rest of the soldiers, watching as the rest got into their ‘chairs’- the stuff softer than they looked as the delegates sank into them.

“Will the pilot be joining us soon?” another asked as she shifted and got more comfortable, putting her hands in her lap.

Steve looked out to one of the pools, not answering right away.

“She needs another minute to finish, but she’ll be coming out there” he said, and pointed to one of the nearby pools. It was lit faintly with small glowing insects swimming beneath the surface.

“Hey” Bucky said, pulling Steve’s attention. His motioned to the skulls questioningly, wondering if they were something to be concerned about. Steve barely glanced at them before shaking his head.

“You remember-” he stopped suddenly, frowning. “It’s, those are Rose’s. Those are her skulls, when she died” he explained haltingly. “It’s like a… a black box, to record death. Slasher’s supposed to file incidents like that”

“ _Jesus_ , that’s-” Bucky stopped, fighting a full-body shiver when he realized. He turned to Steve, eyes wide, seeing the pained look on his face.

“Your skull” he said, barely a whisper.

“Buck, can we not talk about this here?” Steve pleaded, voice hushed.

“It gave me a goddamn _death certificate”_ he hissed, unsure what emotions were churning in his chest, but anger was somewhere in the mix.

“Captain” one of the soldiers interrupted, unaware of the heated discussion they were having, “the, uh. Slasher, is it…?”

“It’ll stay where it is. There’s no threat” Steve assured, turning away from Bucky with a final look that asked him to drop the subject. “She’s got it… paused. It won’t move any closer, and it won’t kill anybody”

Not everyone was convinced, but they didn’t have much choice if they wanted to stay.

Bucky was still vibrating with emotion from the little tidbit of information he’d just learned, unsure what to do with it, when there was a ripple at the pool.

Everyone’s attention turned to the water. The soldiers all tensed, but they followed Steve’s cue to stay calm and didn’t aim their weapons at the pool.

“She’s coming up” Steve warned, and then again there was water splashing as something came out.

Bucky half-expected her to look like a goblin- if the skulls were anything to go by- but what pushed up out of the pool was far different.

She looked like a salamander- or maybe a shark- with mottled brown skin, a smooth and flat head, and a wide snout. Her mouth was tucked low and close, streamlined like a shark.

Long barbs hung down from her snout and cheeks like catfish whiskers. The eyes sat on opposite sides, inset, silver and menacing, just like he remembered when he’d caught a flash of them the first time.

Along her thick neck were gill slits, but there was a thick mane of white braids coming out of them-

Oh, christ, not hair. It was more of those white roots with worms coiled in them, matching the one at Steve’s ear, only far larger and coiled like tresses- enough that he’d mistaken it for _hair_.

Her body was long but hunched, lithe at the front but growing thicker at the back where the large haunches began. Some kind of black fabric covered her body loosely like a robe, the material waterproof and shedding droplets.

She leaned forward, balancing on a long pair of bent legs that ended in a single wide toe on each foot. A long tail acted as a counterbalance, thick and dragging on the ground. She barely reached four feet tall, but if she were to stand up straight, she’d tower even over Steve.

Her arms were small and thin, like they were delicate, and they ended in equally small humanoid hands, the fingers long and pointed with little nails. Like the barbs on her face, she had more protruding from her wrist and forearms.

In a sudden ridiculous realization, he likened her to a kangaroo. The proportions off, everything a little too long and stretched, but the similarity was there.

She stepped out of the pool dripping onto the dirt below, mud coating her feet in a dark muck. She made no attempt to dry herself as the water sluiced off her clothes and skin with ease, leaving only a few stubborn droplets behind.

Everyone watched her, on edge. She didn’t _look_ threatening, no claws or fangs or notable muscles beyond the ones on her legs. She didn’t look to be holding any weapons either, strikingly bare in her simple apparel.

It was her _eyes_ however, that was the biggest problem. They looked angry, like she was a predator regarding them with murderous intent. She turned her head slowly to study them, just as they were studying her.

It wasn’t until Steve spoke that the tension broke.

“Everyone, this is Rose” he introduced, and she raised a tiny hand to wave. Her palms were a paler brown, the skin rougher than the rest of her with little whorls in the skin. The small gesture was accompanied by a sort of chirping noise, almost like a frog’s.

To say this was what any of them were expecting would be a lie. Bucky hadn’t been expecting something so… bestial, in appearance. She looked like something that came from a swamp rather than space.

There was a pause as everyone got a look at her, and then-

“Hello, Captain Rose. I am Ambassador Varela, representing Argentina” the first diplomat started, standing to introduce herself.

And so the exchanges began.

  
(Portrait of alien pilot known as 'Rose", artist rendition)


	39. Chapter 39

_Diplomatic talks with the alien pilot have shed light on many facets of her culture and government._

_Her planet’s form of government is globally unified without geographical borders- however, states still exist, not as locations but as philosophical-political groups. As we can tell, her government is a democratic electocracy, under a mixture of a technocracy and theocracy where religion is replaced with neo-evolutionary philosophies._

_Due to their bio-technological advancements, the Risen-Adaption 38 are in direct control of their physical attributes, and they have been artificially altering their own evolution for centuries._

_This has led to much political strife among major groups who argue over the direction of their collective evolution as a species._

_Rose has speculated the individuals responsible for the sabotage of her ship to be a minor extremist group using the equivalent of black market bio-agents- the idea of a major political party being responsible would otherwise imply an act of war. This extremist group has been described as ‘traditionalists’; against the idea of artificial evolution in its entirety._

_These are only speculations, however, and the pilot is unable to confirm these theories._

_At the moment, it is not believed the Risen-Adaption will pose a threat to the people of Earth._

_38_ _ A direct and literal translation of the pilot’s species name, as spoken by the pilot [Rose] during contact. _

-Excerpt from page 9 of _La Rapporte de_ _l’Ambassadeure_ _Nadia Pinchon;_ English translation by Arthur Fosters

* * *

Steve wiped his brow, feeling the strain of having to translate for so many people.

He had to be attentive, if he became distracted for even a second then Rose wouldn’t pick up what was being said.

As much as Rose touted that she’d configured her tech to the human mind, it still drained him to actively listen, and he could already feel the mounting pressure as his mind exerted itself.

“ _[Greeting]_ _, thank you for your [kindness-respect] to accept my [communication-directed] technology. I understand the [unknown-fear] of [inte_ _rnal-inclusion_ _] is difficult”_ Rose said, addressing the crowd after the introductions.

Steve took a second to think of how to work around the literal translated words.

“She welcomes you all, and thanks you for volunteering. She understands her technology can be intimidating and invasive to us”

Most of the representatives were experienced with translators, and many of them didn’t even look at Steve as he spoke, but he still turned a few heads when he did.

He’d been noticing the looks since coming back. A lot of it apprehension, but some of it suspicion too, all of it directed at the side of his head where her technology hung.

He couldn’t fathom what about it was putting them off- his connection to Rose he could understand, she was more alien than any of the others they’d ever met- but there was something more there that he was missing.

He hated that feeling- of not knowing- that was becoming far too familiar. He felt like an idiot _every time_ when he asked Bucky about something that in hindsight should’ve been obvious, and it was _infuriating_.

It was like waking up in the future all over again, with everything new and unfamiliar, except he didn’t have the excuse of missing out on the latest advancement.

Thank _god_ \- whatever that was worth now- that he had Bucky. Of anybody, he had the best idea of what Steve was going through.

Steve remembered going in with Bucky to some of his therapy sessions, and he was finding himself sharing similar emotions to what Bucky had described. He felt _furious_ at the loss of something he couldn’t even conceive, not knowing what was missing- but he was also _scared_ , helplessly dependent on the memory of someone else to fill in the gaps, having to trust that whatever Bucky told him would be the truth.

And he _did_ trust Bucky, knew he’d never pull one over on Steve, but the vulnerability of it was terrifying.

He was questioning everything, but hesitant to ask Bucky for fear of learning it was something he would’ve known before- or worse, finding it was something he wouldn’t get back. Each new discovery was like uncovering a new cut, most shallow and harmless, but some so deep they’d never heal.

They were being careful not to push after their music discovery, spending their free time watching random documentaries on simple, practical topics, like history or new technologies. Sometimes they watched documentaries about animals too- though never anything with insects, Steve noticed.

It was a safe way to relearn any solid facts he may have lost under the guise of entertainment.

It didn’t help that every time he discovered something, Rose’s voice would chime in with another apology, doing nothing but serving as a bitter reminder of his situation. The burden of her guilt was slowly growing into an open sore, day by day.

So he was relieved when she finally moved things along.

Her instructions came in clicks and crackles in his mind, translated into words in a process he didn’t understand, and didn’t care to learn.

“You can all follow us to Slasher so we can get started. I’ll be going first, and then you can all step up one at a time as I did. Once the implants are in you can all talk to her directly” he said, motioning for the group to follow them to Slasher.

There was a visible hesitance from everyone- one that he _logically_ understood, but couldn’t fully grasp.

They were scared to go near Slasher, and he understood on some level that it was a matter of experience- it had proven dangerous before- but to Steve…

It was beautiful.

The curve of the black shell, the depth of the eyes, the serpentine spiral of its body coiled regally behind it, dozens of legs like daggers, frozen in inactivity.

When he’d first caught sight of Slasher, he’d been struck in awe again at its power and grace, even if logically he should’ve been terrified. He still remembered his first encounter with it- the horror haunted him in the corner of his mind- but the memories wouldn’t connect with the real thing in front of him. Yet again, there was something missing.

And of all the things he’d lost, he suspected _this_ was on purpose.

He was tired, however. As angry as it made him, he couldn’t bring himself to confront Rose about it. Whether she’d done it on purpose or not, the only thing he’d get from her was another apology, and he was on the brink of clawing at his ears if he heard her say ‘ _sorry_ ’ one more time.

“It’s fine, Slasher won’t harm you” Steve assured the assembled group, putting on the bare minimum of a smile before turning to follow behind Rose.

Bucky stepped in his path, putting a hand on Steve’s chest to stop him. He leaned in to talk, voice low so nobody else would hear.

“Hey, you sure you’re okay? We can leave, right now” Bucky said, giving him a concerned look. His eyes bore into Steve.

“ _Is this not comfortable for you? We can [polite-reschedule]”_ Rose added, and for the hundredth time he wished he could shut off his end of the connection- though it served as a reminder of why he was here, too.

There was nothing more Steve wanted than to leave, to take the strain off his mind, but he’d come this far already. If he wanted this done with, he’d need to follow through.

“I’ll be fine” he said, not quite answering either of their questions, then stepping around Bucky without giving him a chance to reply. Bucky followed close behind anyway, not saying anything else.

“ _I will need to_ _[code-implement] before we begin_ _”_ Rose said as they arrived a few feet away from Slasher, its shell a solid wall of black chitin.

Steve nodded, turning back to the procession behind him.

“She’s going to set up the process and we can get started” he said.

Rose was tilting her head form side-to-side, and he heard a faint static as he picked up snippets of her coding.

“… _[last-remove] needles… [three-confirm] [numbing]… content store… [concave-alleviate]… prepare [custom-_ _unique_ _]… [skin-species]…_ ”

It was more science jargon that didn’t translate, and he tried not pay it much mind despite being unable to tune it out. He ran his eyes along the edge of the shell’s lip, which sat raised barely a foot off the ground-

_Mrrrrrrr._

`(Compatibility ⬜◢⧉⬒⊿▫ | Assign ⬙△▿◼⬜ | Mark Array ⊿△⬕◾▮⧉ | Implement Set ▿▿◸◆▭◽⬙ | Confirm ⬕◮ | Confirm ◼▫▪◾ | Confirm ▿◢ | Ready ⬜)`

Steve stumbled back, covering his left eye as a stabbing pain cut through it just as Slasher let out its deep hum.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to Bucky, who was gripping him tight enough to feel each finger through the uniform’s armor, holding him steady as he swayed. The look on his face was devastatingly worried.

“It’s fine, it’s fine” Steve waved him off before Bucky could ask what just happened, steadying himself. The pain was fading quickly, it was hardly an ache.

“ _Steve?”_ Rose asked, turning to him.

“It’s _fine”_ he ground out again.

“Captain?” the lead soldier asked, prompting for an answer. His hand was gripping at his gun, not aiming it directly at Rose but holding in her general direction nonetheless. He was looking between Steve and Rose as if he was expecting a fight, as were the other soldiers.

“ _Jesus_ , everybody stand down. I picked up some feedback on the com, we’re clear” he said, motioning for them to lower their weapons.

“ _That is not supposed to happen”_

“ _Don’t-”_ he spat, looking to Rose sharply and pointing, “ _-_ start with that”

She gazed at him for a moment, then dipped her head.

“ _When you are prepared, you may step into the [surgery-container]”_

She let out a small chirp, and Slasher’s legs shifted, lifting its head up to show the cradle of its mouth, raised like the hood. Its multitude of tools were retracted in the walls of spiraling teeth, multi-jointed limbs ending in everything from bone saws to microscopic needles- or the equivalent of them in any case.

Thick saliva coated everything, the substance self-cleaning and anti-bacterial- anti-viral too. Hidden under the toughened gums were thousands of sacs and glands, each holding a mix of chemicals and compounds, medication and enzymes. Anything that was missing could be synthesized.

Even deeper inside were more stores of biomass, ready to be assembled into bone structures both internal and external; woven into tendons and muscles, or formed into organs. Everything in the ship could be build right here from scratch if need be.

Steve blinked.

He didn’t know how he knew all that.

“ _C_ _hrist_ , let’s just leave” Bucky hissed beside him, reaching out to grip Steve’s arm tightly.

“It’s not going to hurt me” he said, turning to Bucky irritably, though he lost some of his bite when he saw how pale Bucky had gotten, his features twisted in fear for Steve. Behind him, the assembled representatives had a distinct green pallor to them, many looking somewhere between fearful and disgusted.

Most of them, at least. He spotted a few intrigued and excited faces in the crowd. He thought he recognized them from the scientists he’d met.

“Steve, you’re crying; you don’t gotta force it” Bucky said, keeping his voice low as he tugged on Steve’s arm.

_Crying?_

Steve touched his cheek. When he pulled his hand away he saw the tips of his fingers were wet.

He didn’t understand.

He was missing something, and maybe he _should_ take a step back-

_No!_

Anger swelled in him; the stubborn, harsh kind he felt when he was in the middle of a fight, outnumbered and outweighed- and a clarity overcame him.

He finally realized the feeling he’d been having since waking- he felt _small_.

He shrugged Bucky’s hand off and took a step back, noting Bucky’s helpless fear as he read Steve’s intentions.

He ignored it painfully- he couldn’t be held back now no matter the cost- and ignored the crowd staring at him, all of them curious and fearful and intrusive.

He stepped into the cradle of Slasher’s maw, of his own volition for once.

The shell came down- though not all the way, the light from beyond still touching his legs. In contrast, the ceiling above him was all shadow, a familiar void above him.

He heard a litany of clicks as Slasher moved its tools towards him in the cover of darkness, not needing light to see its work. The air shifted around him and took on a humid feel, smelling faintly of something sharp and herbal.

He felt a warm wetness touch his neck and shoulders, holding him securely so he didn’t move. More warmth tracing at his cheeks, his temples, sharp little points all around his skull like cat claws pinching the skin.

The warmth suddenly turned into a cold numbness, and it was like his entire head stopped existing from his body. His skull, his muscles, his eyes and scalp, all of it lacking any kind of sensation or feeling. Was he blinking? Had his mouth fallen open? Where was his tongue? He couldn’t tell, he couldn’t _feel_ -

A moment of animal fear gripped him, and he reached his arms up to grab at whatever unknown was at his head, but more unseen limbs grabbed his arms to hold them away. He fought them only a moment before forcing himself to calm, letting his arms go limp. The grips didn’t let go.

There was a grinding _crunch!,_ and he lost hearing in his left ear. More sharp noises like crinkling paper, then a _squelch!_ , and the noises turned notably wet. The white noise that had been playing in his head like radio static started to fade, growing quiet in a soft decline. Finally, _finally_ , it was ending.

“ _This is the last time I will speak with you directly”_ Rose said, her voice still clear in his head, if a little muted.

He tried to form words in response, but his mouth didn’t exist and he couldn’t tell if he’d even moved it.

“ _It has all been spoken._ _I have no more words,_ _so_ _I will_ _only_ _say this: [greeting-departure]”_

 _Goodbye_ , Steve translated.

 _Goodb_ _ye_ , he thought in turn, relieved.

C̖̝̖̪̩̯̺͋̎̓͡͡RA̍C̻͚̖͕̰͉̹͒̉̇͑͘̚͜͠K̒̅!̴̙̩̝̗̥͗̊̋̌ͅ

Sharp pain slashed through his head in a pointed starburst, like a circuit overloaded and snapping shut and then-

And then…

Silence.

  
`(⬜`)


	40. Chapter 40

_The Occupied Zone is filled with a myriad of new life, and every day we come closer to knowing it in its entirety. Much is still unknown, and in some regards our answers are nothing more than speculations._

_What can be said definitively of these organisms is that they are invasive and pose a severe threat to life on Earth. Already they have supplanted the local wildlife and vegetation, drastically altering the environment to the point of being uninhabitable and outright hostile to terrestrial life._

_This report represents our best and most recent data of these organisms and environment, collected and summarized by a team of researchers. It is meant to serve as a guide to help understand and stay safe when interacting with the aliens, both in the field and as part of isolated specimen studies._

_Backed with this knowledge, we can work to find a solution to better contain, study, and eventually eradicate this threat._

-Excerpt of Foreword, page 1 of the Harriman Park Report

* * *

> _This is horseshit. ~~I wasted~~ We could have gotten more information if the zone had just stayed how it was with the biomachines broken and no idea they were even artificial._
> 
> _She won’t share anything to do with the biotech. Dr. Pavon’s been having a field day with the xeno-anthropology, he can’t get enough information on her culture, but she won’t explain anything beyond the purpose of her machines._
> 
> _How are they made? How does she genetically manipulate their behaviour? What mechanisms does she use to signal and control? She won’t say._
> 
> _It has to do with Rogers, he said something to her that ruined any trust we could’ve built. All she’ll say is our “species-culture” would be ruined by this stuff, which I take to mean we’re not advanced enough to handle it. She claims we’ll fall into the same problems her own people have, but will we?_
> 
> _Her people never had access to electronics, they’ve only ever known biotechnology. We have the experience with our own not to fall into the same pitfalls she’s claiming we will._
> 
> _The point is moot though. She just won’t share._
> 
> _We tried getting another specimen to study but she wouldn’t allow it. I tried to sneak one out anyway ~~and got attacked~~ It didn’t end well. The bites are superficial, and I was still allowed back in, but she’s become wary._
> 
> _I don’t think I will be learning much more from her._
> 
> _I don’t think anyone will._

Excerpt from the Personal Journal of Dr. Mike Sabos, member of the Harriman Research Team

* * *

They sat on the roof of Avengers’ Tower together, bundled in blankets, a space heater on either side blasting warm air in the chilly morning.

The seat was a padded lounging chair, long enough for Bucky to lie back with Steve between his legs, his back resting against Bucky’s chest. Bucky had his arms circled around Steve’s waist under the blanket, holding him close.

“Jarvis, what time is it?” Steve asked.

“Eight-thirty-four, sir”

Steve hummed, tapping the end of his pencil against the blank sketchpad and staring out over the city to the hazy horizon beyond.

“Should be happenin’ soon” he said idly.

“Yeah” Bucky agreed, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder.

A light snow was falling from a bright, overcast sky. The two of them watched the flakes falling lazily, hardly any wind to disturb their journey down.

It had been two months since they’d wiped themselves clean of anything to do with Rose and her crawling machines. After the removal of the vines, Bucky had rushed Steve away, leaving the delegates to handle the rest of the mission on their own.

He’d gotten Steve on the waiting quinjet and back to the tower, where they spent twelve hours learning he was perfectly fine- or in the same condition as when he’d left, in any case. From there they’d retreated back to their apartment in the tower, secluded away to recover in private.

They hadn’t left the tower apartment much since, only going down to the gym or the indoor courtyard- once to the pool and then not at all, neither of them wanting to touch the problem they’d encountered that day. It left Steve something to discuss with his therapist, in any case.

Sam made an effort to see them a few times a week, if only to stop by and say hi, with Natasha and Clint trading off between. Tony left a lot of messages, sent a lot of packages, but seeing him in person was a rarity.

Steve wasn’t ready for extended company however- he was still a little too off for socializing, and while the others would let it slide in understanding, it still left Steve feeling inadequate. It was too stressful for him, so they’d curbed their social life for the time being, limiting visits to an hour at most.

The other Avengers still went on missions, working closer with the new Shield to help pick up the slack of their missing numbers. Occasionally they went on consulting missions at the Occupied Zone too, but neither he nor Steve wanted anything more to do with it, and their teammates respected that.

Today would be the last day they’d ever have to deal with it again, if all went well.

The nervous _tap-tap-tap_ of Steve pencil rang out in the silence of the roof as they waited, the distant sound of the city barely heard this high.

Steve’s art had been an elephant in the room for a long while, the stacks of paper and supplies still sitting out, untouched and unmentioned. Bucky had woken up one day to find all of it quietly tucked away in a closet, not a words from Steve about it.

He’d finally admitted, during one of his counseling sessions that Bucky had sat in on, that he was worried he’d lost his art. He was scared to try drawing, terrified it would confirm his fears.

And it wasn’t an unreasonable fear either- at the time, they’d been a month into their leave, and the list of things Steve had lost wasn’t long, but it wasn’t nothing.

While music had turned out to be the most devastating, the rest still left a bitter feeling in both of them.

It was little things. Foods he liked now disgusted him, foods he hated that he now loved. The colour orange set his teeth on edge, the feel of wool made his skin crawl- he couldn’t get enough of leather though, something about it made him feel safe.

It took him a half second longer to understand jokes, though he got them all the same. His reflection spooked him now; at first sight, just for half a second, he’d think it was a stranger he was seeing, and then he’d curse at himself for flinching.

He’d also developed a bizarre association with shapes: he might look at a square and describe it as joyful, or relaxed; a triangle could be listless, or afraid. Angles and lines suddenly held strange context and emotions. Cho called a form of synesthesia, though they couldn’t rule it out as a leftover of the machine language either.

Another more concerning one was a fear of insects- or lack thereof, more accurately. Neither of them had ever been particularly scared to begin with, but when they’d tried testing Steve to see his reaction- a precaution suggested by his counselor to see if there were any ‘ _trauma induced phobias_ ’ after his experience- they found nothing. More than nothing, Steve actually _liked_ them. He’d opened a container holding a spider and let it crawl up his arm, grinning at it like he was holding a puppy.

It left Bucky feeling vaguely ill, but he supposed it was better than another trauma.

It was small things like these, inane and random, that they had to deal with on top of his missing knowledge.

And this was on their off-time. They weren’t even _close_ to touching field and combat training, though the question hung over them of whether Steve would ever be ready to go on missions again- he wasn’t even ready to go out in _public_ , though that was probably for the best.

They’d released an official statement of everything that happened- in vague details- and to say the media fallout was a shitstorm would be putting it lightly.

Still, progress was being made in other ways. Steve was re-learning how to cook, not just things he’d forgotten but things that were new to the both of them. It was an easy thing to pick up, and so what if onions and garlic curdled Steve’s lips? There were other flavours to be used.

The both of them were also going through documentaries like tissues, both filling in Steve’s missing knowledge while expanding it, learning things neither of them knew before.

It was all forward progress.

Steve’s biggest step recently had been picking up his art. He still couldn’t bring himself to draw, the fear of it eating him too much, but he’d gotten comfortable holding the supplies again. The pencil still fit in his hand natural as ever, held confidently even if Steve didn’t feel it.

Any day he might actually try to sketch something.

Bucky didn’t think it would be today though, as they sat on the roof, the _tap-tap-tap_ of his pencil still going as they watched the horizon.

From the purposefully little he’d heard, the representatives had gotten all they’d get out of Rose. She shared her culture and traveling plans just fine, but on the topic of her technology she refused. There were a few hundred requests for Steve’s presence to act as mediator, or even his consultation as they studied what they could of the last remaining alien specimens.

The satisfaction Bucky had gotten sending a cease and desist to those assholes- to Mike and the research council and the goddamn UN- had been indescribable.

They’d received only one final response after that; a heartfelt letter explaining that without Steve’s help, they may never know how her insects were made, or how she controlled them. How they might lose the opportunity to learn a new technological advancement for the betterment of mankind.

Both Steve and Bucky was more than fine with that. They didn’t need any of those things here. It was all coming to an end now, anyway.

Steve’s tapping abruptly stopped.

“There it goes” he said, leaning harder into Bucky.

Bucky looked out and saw a shape in the distance- a huge, rounded object in the sky, slowly approaching the city.

All that biomass they’d delivered had been put to use fixing her ship, but they’d avoided any news about its progress, wanting only to know when she was leaving.

Which was why they were out here. They had to see with their own eyes.

The thing soared higher, passing over the city like a nightmarish weather balloon, flying on an ascending path to the sky, utterly silent. In the distance were a pair of jets, circling wide as they followed it’s progress.

Bucky squinted against the white of the sky to get a better look, noting the differences since he’d last seen the Seed ship.

It still held the almond shape, but that was about the only similarity it had to the original. Instead of a roughened brown, the surface was covered in huge scales, big enough to see even from a distance, layered like panels and coloured a dark purple that faded into black on the underside.

Tall spines sat atop the thing in two rows like giant pillars, each at least thirty feet tall, waving in the wind as the creature flew using unseen means. At the front was a protrusion of spiked teeth, all pointing inwards to a deep, leech-like maw.

It passed overhead, sending snowflakes dancing in its wake. They didn’t feel any wind as it went by, but there was a faint vibration in his bones and metal arm, uncomfortable but brief. Steve shrunk in on himself, and Bucky squeezed him closer, holding on protectively.

They craned their heads back as it passed the tower, rising until it disappeared above the clouds. The white void swallowed its shape, until there was no trace left.

Up and away, and it was gone.

They sat in silence a moment longer. Bucky kept waiting for it to return, or fall from the sky, or maybe release a locus swarm of horrors in a final departing betrayal.

Nothing happened except for more snowfall, the flakes melting from the heaters before they even touched them.

Slowly, Steve relaxed in his arms, the pencil and pad forgotten in his lap. He let out a hitching breath, turning around to curl deeper into Bucky’s chest, breathing wetly.

Bucky pulled the blanket up around Steve’s shoulders, wrapping them both tightly.

“It’s alright, you’re alright” he hushed, stroking Steve’s back as he shuddered.

“I can’t- it’s- fuck” Steve gasped.

“ _Shh_ , they’re gone, okay? It’s done”

“ _God”_ Steve cried, burying his face in Bucky’s chest.

They held on to each other, their breaths puffing in the frigid air despite the heaters, letting their reality sink in.

The bugs were gone. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it- a part of him didn’t, paranoid that it was a ruse. He’d have to ask Tony for satellite confirmation that they’d left the goddamn solar system.

“I thought… I thought there’d be more to it” Steve said after a while, once he calmed.

“Like what?”

“Maybe a sense of peace. Closure. I don’t know. This just felt… anticlimactic” Steve murmured into Bucky’s chest.

“That ain’t a bad thing” Bucky offered. He was glad it had ended quietly. They’d had enough stress to last a lifetime.

“I guess not” Steve sighed. “Just…” he drifted into silence, and Bucky waited for him to find his words.

“I don’t _feel_ different. Everything’s still- I’m still _like this”_ he muttered.

“What, still Steve?” Bucky said, trying for lighthearted.

Steve laughed bitterly. “What the fuck does that even mean? _Am_ I Steve? I don’t feel much like him”

Bucky held back a shudder at Steve’s words- Bucky had been there once, disconnected from the person he used to be, feeling like an intruder in someone else’s body.

“You’re Steve enough,” he said fiercely, “We’re more than our missing pieces- you gotta work with what you have, build something with it, and… and it won’t be how it used to, but it’s enough. It _has_ to be enough or it’s gonna drive you nuts”

He swallowed, shifting in his seat. He didn’t look down at Steve, and Steve didn’t look up either.

“What are you thinking?” Bucky asked after too long of a silence.

It took Steve another moment to answer.

“I don’t- I can’t put this on you”

“I’ve been through this sort of thing, I can-”

“ _That’s just it”_ Steve cut in, “You’ve _been_ through this already, I can’t make you live through it again. I _can’t”_

Bucky couldn’t fault him on that- there were times when looking at Steve was like looking at a mirror, and it made Bucky want to crawl into a closet. As much as he hated to admit, it was a relief to hear Steve say it.

Another beat of silence.

“But you’ll talk to Lucas, right?”

Steve sighed. “Yeah, I’ll talk to him about it”

Bucky rested his head on Steve’s, his short hairs tickling Bucky’s cheek. “Good. It helps” he said, remembering his own experience with his counselor- how some things were easier to say when Steve wasn’t there.

It took time to believe someone could love you through your ugliest moments.

“I’m sorry” Steve murmured against his chest, almost a whisper. He sounded like he might start crying again.

“It’s alright” Bucky hushed, rubbing circles in Steve’s back, pulling the blanket back up from where it had slipped down.

He held Steve like that as the snow continued to fall, the city going on its business below them despite that alien creature that flew overhead earlier. Just another day in New York.

He cast his eyes up to the sky. The chill of the air was fighting against the warmth of the heaters, the shifting temperatures playing over his skin.

He looked up and took a deep breath, feeling the weight of Steve and the warmth he put off.

_Eight months._

This entire ordeal had taken eight months of their lives.

It was hard to believe. It was so much and so little time all at once.

 _It’s over_ , he thought. _It’s really over._

Of course it wasn’t _actually_ over. There’d be therapy, and medical exams, and relearning whatever missing scraps they could salvage. One day there might be training, and all the difficulties that would entail.

There’d also be struggles- for both of them- for the rest of their lives. Things neither of them would get back for different reasons.

But they had time, and they had support from their friends, and the support of professionals too.

And they had each other.

And that was enough.

  
(Image of alien spacecraft, flight over New York)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The spaceship creature is based on the [wiwaxia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wiwaxia), a funky little mollusk-worm from the early and middle Cambrian era.
> 
> And that's the story! A huge thanks to all you readers for coming along on this journey with me, for those who left a kudos; and a special thanks to those who left comments, your words have always brought a smile to my face and made my day brighter. <3 <3 <3
> 
> I did my best to resolve every thread in this story, but I'm sure there were things I missed or left unclear, so feel free to ask in the comments if there's something you'd like clarified or answered! I'm more than happy to share, there's no more mysteries for me to keep secret!


End file.
